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Feifel Goes (Mid)West

May 5, 2009 by Kelli

“MMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!”

“What Sloan?!”

“We caught another one!”

With a slight medium insane amount of trepidation, I walked slowly down the stairs where my kids knealt in front of a near decapitated mouse hanging off the trap. Flecks of peanut butter clung to its whiskers, a fact that did not excape Sloan and Tia.

“Look mom, look at the peanut butter on his mouth,” Sloan said. Is that delight I hear in his voice?

“Eeeeewwwww,” Tia said, giggling. Well, at least she has common sense enough to think it’s gross. “I touch it,” she cried, her little finger edging toward the mouse.

“NO,” I yelled calmy said. “Don’t touch it – I’ll get a bag to throw it away.”

As I lifted the trap off the floor, the mouse’s feet swung off the end of the trap and it’s tail hit my wrist. With a yelp, I threw it back down and leapt to my feet. My kids screamed and jumped too. Yes, I am passing on my neurosis to my offspring. Yay me!

I stared at the mouse for a moment, visions of his little eyes popping open and and his little mouth issuing out a war cry to his little friends, who would then swarm my house and take me captive.

“Mom?” Sloan’s voice broke me out of my horror. “I’ll pick it up for you if you want.”

I hesitated for only a moment, then decided, yes, this is good. Kids need responsibility, they need to feel like they are helping around the house.

And so my five year old disposed of the mouse for me. And I felt a mixture of relief and shame that I let him do it. But you know he did feel really good about the fact that he had done a “daddy job” and I for one am glad to have given him that boost in self esteem. I’m a good mommy.

In case you’re wondering, that’s the ninth mouse we’ve caught in or around our house. Maybe tenth. It’s hard to remember. Apparently there’s a colony all trying to infiltrate. We’ve sealed up the dog food tight in the garage, but I’m still finding dog food in my laundry, which leads me to believe that they have a surplus somewhere, which naturally leads to the idea that they are gathering arms to lay siege upon us and take over our house one and all.

And, if it comes down to that, they can have it. I surrender. I’m a pansy…

Anyway – we’ve got glue traps, mouse traps and poison and we’ve caught several mice with each of those contraptions. Even the dog caught one, delightedly dropping it’s mangled, bloodied body at my feet as if looking for a reward. Yeah, I handled that great – I think I clamped my jaw down so hard that I chipped a tooth in my attempt not to spew chunks all over the place.

I hate mice. I don’t think they’re cute or cuddly. I think they’re scary and ugly and if one scurries across my foot while I’m gathering laundry there’s a good chance I’ll break my neck trying to get away. And I am pretty sure these mice aren’t going away. I wonder if I should charge them rent…

You think I’m kidding, but I’m pretty sure I heard the mournful strains of Somewhere Out There last night as I fell asleep.

Filed Under: Family, Gross, Kids, Life Tagged With: mice, mouse trap, somewhere out there

No time for words…

May 4, 2009 by Kelli

Today is our busy day, which means I hardly have time to breath, much less hang out at the computer. So I leave you a picture (or three), then I’m off…

Eating yogurt by himself for the first time

I love that smile. And yes, that is a toad on her shoulder courtesy of her cousin Cade.

He's got a great laugh.

Filed Under: Kids, Life

Sick and Twisted or Just Plain Funny?

April 28, 2009 by Kelli

When I was thirteen, I got a babysitting job for some neighbors that lived down the street. After hanging up the phone, I checked the calendar and realized that *gasp* I had just agreed to baby-sit on Friday the 13^th.

I handled this realization with typical teenage aplomb, dramatically lamenting about how horrible and terrible it would be. I was all, “Ohmyga, like, it’s gonna be soooooooo scary to baby-sit on, like, Friday the 13^th. Like, what am I gonna do – like…?”

I think my parents responded with an eye roll and snicker. Heartless.

Finally, the big day arrived. I had asked a friend to go with me because I figured there was power in numbers and if any crazed psychopaths came knocking on our door I could sacrifice her and run for my life.

Once we finally settled the baby in his bed, we sat down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and put in a documentary on the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Why did we choose to watch that? Hard to say – that’s a part of this memory that baffles me. All I know is that just as the shot rang out on the grassy knoll, we heard it – a scratching sound on the back porch.

Both of us froze, afraid to even glance at one another. Then we heard the bang of a chair falling over. My friend yelped and jumped on top of me. I pulled a pillow over my face and the bowl of popcorn thudded to the floor. It was like a bad horror movie when everything slowed down. I could hear nothing but the rapid beating of my heart.

“What should we do?” my friend gasped.

“I’ll run upstairs and grab the baby – you call 911,” I replied, my breathing ragged.

“How about I go get the baby and you stay down here with the killer?” my friend said back. Clearly, neither one of us was feeling overly self-sacrificial.

At that moment, three short raps rang from the back door. At this point, my friend is nearly in tears, her face hidden in her hands. I poked my head out from under the pillow and could see the silhouette of a man standing on the other side of the glass. I was just about to let loose the blood curdling scream that only a girl of 13 could produce when I heard, “Kelli? Let me in – it’s cold out here.”

It was my FATHER. In a sick and twisted moment of cruelty, he thought it would be a good idea to come over and scare us, knowing how dramatic we had been about babysitting that night.

After opening the door and giving him an earful (Dad, like you are soooooo lame. We were, like, tooootally gonna call the cops on you, blah, blah, blah) I giggled a little, because, well, it was pretty funny.

My dad was notorious for scaring the ever lovin’ life out of us as kids. My brother, who was terrified of “basement monsters,” would creep down the stairs only to come tearing back up when my dad would let out a howl from behind him. My dad found an odd measure of glee in watching us scream in terror. And the funny part is that even though he genuinely scared us senseless, we always came back for more. There was something oddly comforting about being so scared, yet deep down knowing we were just fine.

And, I have to admit, now that I’m a parent – it is pretty funny. Last week, our back door, which hadn’t been closed all the way, blew open in a gust of wind.

“Maybe it’s a ghost,” I whispered to my kids and I crept slowly to the door. Gripping the knob, I yanked it all the way open and let out a piercing scream. Sloan screamed too, his eyes wide with terror. When he realized I was joking, he broke out in a peal of delighted laughter.

Tia, however, did not appreciate the twisted humor. She glared at me for half an hour and refused to sit next to me at lunch. For some reason this made me laugh even more. (And I did apologize to her later – I’m not totally heartless.)

I’m not sure what it is, but giving your kids a healthy little scare is just hilarious. Perhaps it’s a little payback for the sleepless nights? Or maybe, as in my case, it’s the perpetuating of a cycle that started long ago with my own father. Whatever it is, to hear their little screams and then listen to them break out in short little bursts of fearful laughter-those are good times. Or maybe that’s just me…

After all, I am a little sick and twisted.

Filed Under: blast from the past, Family, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Motherhood Tagged With: Friday the 13th, humor, Kids, scared

Cousins

April 27, 2009 by Kelli

I love watching my kids play with their cousins. It takes me back to childhood and how much I loved being with my own extended family. Here are a few snapshots of our weekend in Conway. While getting six kids to play together is a piece of cake, getting all six of them to sit still for photographs is a different story…

Sloan, Katya, Landon

Bribes work well on three year olds...not so much on one year olds

Still not having fun...we have about 15 pictures like this

And they're done

And here are a few pictures of Tia because I just can’t resist.

Isn't that dress great? If they had one in my size, I would have bought it!

She looks very old in these pictures. It kind of makes me sad.

Little Miss Sunshine

All photos were taken by my wonderful sister-in-law, Becke’. Check out her photo blog here.

Filed Under: Family, Kids

Why I’m Happy

April 23, 2009 by Kelli

1. We’re leaving town today to go to Conway to visit Lee’s family. I’m not excited about the 6 hour drive, but I am excited to get away for the weekend.

2. We found out we were getting a nice tax return and decided to purchase the bedroom furniture that I’ve had my eye on for about two years now. I’m near giddy about this. This marks our first big furniture purchase in our nearly nine years of marriage. We don’t make financial commitments easily.

3. Li’l and Anoop got voted off American Idol last night. It’s the little things, people.

4. I’ve got some really fun writing opportunities coming down the pipeline. I’m having a blast.

5. I cut Sloan’s hair myself this morning and saved us 15 bucks. Just, please, don’t look too close at it. kthanks.

6. We joined Lifetime Fitness. And it’s awesome. I want to live there forever and ever. Today I’m going to go sit in the Eucalytus steam room. I’m such a diva.

7. I’m halfway through Harry Potter book 6, which means I only have a book and a half to go until I find out what happens. I gotta say, the Harry Potter books are amazing.

8. It’s a beautiful day and spring is finally here to stay.

9. We’re buying our flowers next week and cleaning up the landscaping. I can’t wait!

10. My kids are adorable as evidenced by this video.

Don’t you love dancing babies? Happy weekending to you all!

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Life, Random

My Mom Logic – Preserving the Past

April 21, 2009 by Kelli

Swish, Swish

The Painter deftly runs His brush over the broad canvas, a brilliant splash of color marking a trail behind Him. With careful precision, He mixes colors, creating a palate that perfectly compliments. Some colors are vibrant and immediately pop. Others are muted, blending more into the background but essential nonetheless to the masterpiece being created.

With every swish of His brush, the Painter brings more life into what was once a dry piece of fabric…

I have spent a significant amount of brain power trying to think of the perfect post for this contest. I’ve come up with a dozen witty lines sure to have the judges wiping the tears from their eyes as they heave in uproarious laughter.

But tonight, as I reflect on this topic, I find that I cannot write that humorous post. Which is probably a good thing because I doubt it was all that funny anyway.

papa-and-bebe-pictures-137

random-2571

Above you see two pictures. The woman on the right is my grandmother, Mimi. The woman on the left is my husband’s grandmother, who we call (oddly enough) grandmother.

These two women are matriarchs in our family lines. Swish, swish.

Mimi died on March 3, 2004. Today, Grandmother lays in a hospital in critical condition. In the last 48 hours she has managed to fight her way off of her deathbed, but she is still a very sick woman. (since I first posted this, Grandmother has shown a miraculous recovery…Swish). And my heart hurts. The connections to the past, to the events that, though long ago, will ultimately play a part in molding who my children are as people, are fading. I find that a difficult pill to swallow.

Mimi was the original blogger. After she passed away, my mom brought home a stack of diaries that Mimi journaled in over a period of 50 years. They start in 1961, when Mimi and Poppi Jim settled in the West Indies as pioneer missionaries. They lived without electricity or running water. Mimi found a thousand different ways to cook SPAM. Poppi Jim bought a small Cessna airplane to help with the mission work…and then he taught himself how to fly it.

Swish, swish.

In two months, I will go to the island of South Caicos for the first time and see where my mom grew up. I will meet some of the people who still love and admire my grandparents to this day. I will see the church and the school that my grandfather started. The grandfather I never met because he died at the age of 45.

Swish.

My husband’s grandmother has been a stalwart of strength. She is the constant that we can always depend on for skads of hugs, kisses and unending pride. She is the woman who took a computer class in her late seventies so she could better keep in touch with her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Swish, swish.

What is my mom logic? Today, this moment, what seems more logical than anything else is to preserve this history of family for my children. To help them see the fluid lines that are painted in the tapestry of life. And to give them a pride in their part of this grand piece of art. Their lives now leave behind a mark that gives greater detail to an intricate history. I want my kids to grasp and respect this concept.

I also want my children to understand the power of the written word. I want them to appreciate how precious the scratched out writings of their great-grandmother are and know that her words preserved moments in time that would have forever been lost otherwise.

And someday, I hope that their children will want to know who I was. And as they search through the pages I’ve written, I want them to see the foundation that was laid for them by their ancestors. (And I really hope they don’t think, “Gee, great-grandma was a weirdo…”) That is why I blog. That is why I spend time documenting the little moments in life. That is my mom logic.

Swish.

This is my entry into the MomLogic contest. While I do hope that I have found favor with the judges, ultimately I hope I’ve honored two women who I love dearly.

Filed Under: Blogging, Family, Kids, Motherhood, shameless self-promotion

Deep Breaths

April 14, 2009 by Kelli

Do you ever have those days, or weeks, where you feel like maybe, just maybe, this is the moment when it will happen. When every ounce of composure you’ve managed to muster up to this point has slowly been siphoned away and you will finally lose your mind once and for all?

Yeah, me too. In fact, I’ve had a couple of days like that. I love my children with every single fiber of my being, but, well, some days I feel like the life is being sucked out of me; like I can’t suck in a deep breath between the constant demands that surround me. And I’m just tired and frustrated.

I just sent my daughter to her room where I have half a mind to leave her for the rest of the day. The trying three’s are upon us and ohmygoodness, they are trying. I told Lee last night that it’s a good thing she’s the cutest child in the world, because right now, she’s just a little stinker.

I know that these years are short and they go by quickly and when they’re gone I’ll miss them and blah, blah, blah. But today, right this very moment, I’m just fed up and annoyed. Given that my face is breaking out like a prepubescent teenager, I am making the assumption that I’m also slightly hormonal, which is naturally not helping at. all.

Oh, and have I mentioned that my youngest, who is also about as cute as a child could possibly get, is teething and getting over a nasty virus which means he’s crying near constantly? Yeah, cause that helps mommy out a ton.

Some days this thing called motherhood drains the life out of me. Some days, I just feel like maybe I’m not cut out for this. I look around and see women all around me handling their children with such grace and patience and I, unwisely, compare myself to them. All of the bad mommy moments rear their ugly heads and the good moments – the ones where I am that graceful, patient mommy – get buried.

I have to remind myself not to do that.

I know that we all experience these days. I know it’s okay. I know that these years won’t last forever. I also know that I won’t miss these moments where I feel bombarded, overwhelmed, under appreciated and generally frustrated.

What I will miss are these moments:

cute-tia2 and these: spring-09-014 oh, and also these: spring-09-007

The mounds of laundry, the constant mess, the crying, whining, fighting and general feeling of suffocation are only a small part of the picture. They are worth it every time I get a grin, a hug, a silly dance or a funny observation. There is redemption as I hear my five year old pray before dinner, beseeching God’s mercy and grace on his family. Those are the moments that I live for – the moments that make days like today tolerable.

Well, those moments and blogging, of course, because I feel much better now that I’ve vented for a moment. Now, off to deal with the girl…

Filed Under: Blogging, Kids, Life, Motherhood

Easter Blunder

April 13, 2009 by Kelli

I loved Easter as a kid. My parents made it a big deal in our house. There were new dresses and bonnets (for me, not for my brother ’cause that would’ve been weird); baskets filled with goodies magically appeared on the fireplace on Easter morning, and, of course, we headed to church where there was always a feeling of excitement and joy in the air as we celebrated our risen Lord.

I try to create an equal amount of excitment and joy for my kids and it seems to be working. They had a wonderful Easter weekend filled with family, food and laughter. We are thrilled to have my brother in town for a little while. Sloan has been wanting to have a Star Wars party with his Uncle Brett for a long time now, ever since he found out that Brett liked Star Wars when he was a little boy too. So Friday night we made a cake, got some decorations and watched Star Wars together. The kids had a blast – and so did the grown-ups! We even played pin the voice box on Darth Vader. It’s a slightly odd way to celebrate Easter weekend, I’ll admit.

On Easter Sunday, I got up at the crack of dawn to make sure I had everything ready for everyone because I had to be at church by 7:45 to prepare for morning worship. By 7:15, everyone was dressed and the obligatory photos were taken. The Easter Bunny left a note the night before telling the kids that he took their baskets to Boss and Bushka’s house (my parents) so thankfully we didn’t have to deal with that.

Here are our sweet Easter photos:

Dress #1

Tia in her Easter bonnet, which she didn't want to wear because she was afraid it would mess up her hair.

: The Brothers Stuart: Aren’t they handsome?

My babies

: Dress #2

What’s with Dress # 1 & 2, you ask? Well, therein lies the blunder. After I left for church, with my brood dressed and ready to go, I got to church anticipating their arrival at the 9:00 am service. But, my dear readers, my husband made a classic male mistake.

Because they were ready so early, he decided to swing through Starbucks on the way to church. And, because he was feeling so joyous and relaxed, he decided to bless his children by getting them hot cocoa.

Oh yes he did!

Somehow he forgot that our daughter is the. messiest. child on planet Earth. Thus, when they pulled into the church parking lot and he glanced back, he noticed she had spilled hot cocoa all down her dress.

So he took her home where he frantically tried to get the stain out of the Easter dress that I had so lovingly picked out – much to no avail. Thus dress #2. We are still working on the stain on the other dress. *sigh* Boys. Oh well – after I got over the initial annoyance, I actually found the situation quite amusing because only a daddy would think that giving a child hot cocoa in the car in her Easter dress was a good idea. Lee was sheepishly apologetic and we’ve been laughing about it since.

Hope you all had wonderful Easters filled with joy and laughter, and minus irreparable stains.

*sorry about the photos not all being in order. I get the distinct impression that WordPress might hate me. I’m still learning.

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Marriage, Tia

It’s a New Day

April 10, 2009 by Kelli

We are back in the land of the living, though Landon is still a sick little boy. He did sleep last night and his fever finally broke, but he’s so congested and he’s just wiped out as evidenced by the fact that it’s 8:15 and he’s already taking a nap.

Because yesterday was such a rough day, I wasn’t able to post my feelings on the conscience protection plan for physicians. In 2008, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services passed a measure that protected physicians who choose to not perform abortions. In March of this year, the new administration announced plans to rescind this protection. Midnight of last night was the deadline to sign an online petition stating your opposition of this measure and I’m sorry I did not get that link posted earlier.

But, it’s not too late to let the President, the HHS and your congressman know that you vehemently opposed such legislation.

It is baffling to me how two sided people can be on this issue. Pro-Choice advocats clearly only support freedom of choice when it serves the purpose that they want it to serve. But what about a doctor’s freedom to choose whether or not he wants to participate in something that he may find unethical or, at best, detrimental to the health of his patient? Rescinding the protection for these doctors is the very antithesis of the freedom of choice.

Shame on those who support this and are pushing for it’s acceptance.

If you have a few moments today, please visit the Freedom2Care site to find out how you can support physicians rights to not practice abortion. There are several links within the site that will explain what you can do to show your support for our physicians and their right to practice medicine without persecution. And, if you have a blog, take a moment to post about this topic and pass on the above mentioned site.

Do not let this matter go unannounced. We need to band together to protect our freedoms, which are slowly being pulled away from us. Let’s vocally support our rights as citizens to choose doctors that meet our ethical standards and let’s support our physicians who are fighting to do what’s right even in the face of opposition.

Filed Under: Blogging, Kids, Life, politics

The Mathematical Probability of Interruption

April 7, 2009 by Kelli

I have a theory I’d like to posit. And no, I’m not sure if I spelled or used the word “posit” correctly – moving on.

Without fail, when I make the concerted effort to get up early in the morning so I can have a quiet time or do some writing, my kids also wake up extra early.

Undoubtably, if I sit down for a moment midday to rest, read a book, read blogs, write, someone will fall down and skin their knee, need a drink, have to use the bathroom, or, as is the case right now with Landon, just suddenly need a few extra snuggles (which I am gladly doling out so this post may take forever to finish).

Okay, I’m back and let me just say that I just got some of the sweetest kisses and hugs from that precious baby. Wow…I hope he’s not getting sick.

Anyway, I posted a status update on my Facebook page the other day regarding this particular phenomenon and received a fascinating response from one of my friends that got me thinking. Her idea was that children can sense a change in air pressure, so if we move early in the morning, it stirs them. While I find this to be a fascinating theory, I’d like to take it a step further.

Thus, I have now established The Probability of Interruption, which I feel certain should eventually be adopted as a true Theory. Or not. I don’t know much about that sort of thing, actually. I’ve always been a literature kind of gal. Me and math are not friends.

The Probability of Interruption states that as the heartrate of the mother, the bpm (beats per minute), rises and falls, so will the bpm of the child also rise in fall in opposite and similar effect.

Got it? No?

An example – this morning, I took my resting heart rate when I woke up. I had a resting bpm of 56. Once I rose and moved around enough to use the bathroom, get dressed, come out to the computer and sit down, my bpm had risen to about 62.

And Tia woke up. Even though it was quite early and she went to bed late last night, she still woke up. Why is this? Why, it’s because of The Probability of Interruption. As my heart rate rose, do did hers. Though I made little to no noise, she was stirred from her slumber. In this instance, her heart rate rose in similar effect to mine.

Now, after rushing to get everyone ready for the day and Sloan out the door, my bpm was at roughly 68. I sat down at the computer and after 5 minutes of sitting, it had fallen back down to 63. It was at this precise moment that Tia hit her brother and he came to me crying. Moments after dealing with that, both children were in need of a drink. Why is this? Because…you got it! The Probability of Interruption. As my heart rate dropped, the kids’ bpm’s rose in opposite effect thereby causing inappropriate behavior and the metabolic need for sustenance.

This is why I have such a difficult time getting anything done. If I want to clean, someone will ultimately thwart that plan. If I want to take a shower, you can be sure that someone will pull open the shower door with some sort of desperate need – all because as my heart rate slowed into a relaxed state, theirs rose into an agitated state, thus necessitating (?) the need to interrupt my reverie.

So, in effect, The Probability of Interruption pretty much guarantees that for the rest of my life, I will likely be interrupted any time I begin to get too comfortable. My theory obviously proves that as fact.

And, while this theory can have some mild effect on fathers, it appears that mostly and mainly The Probability of Interruption applies to mothers alone. Even if dad is the one to wake up early and mom’s bpm remains in the resting state, the children will most likely either sleep through dad’s movement, or they will wake up due to the noise that dad inevitably makes and come wake mom up rather than disturb dad.

So there you have it, ladies. You now have scientific evidence that your children are hard wired to make sure that you never fully accomplish anything to the full extent. Oh, and incidentally, this theory works just as equally if mom is doing anything that raises her heart rate. This means that you and your husband will most likely want to make judicious use of the lock on your bedroom door if you get my drift…and I think you do. (blush)

Now I’ve embarrassed myself and my bpm is surely rising because the kids are going wild. Gotta go!

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Life, Motherhood, Random