Halloween

The girls and I have been planning for this day for months. That's not a lie or an exaggeration, but it is sorta sad. We decided to go as The Powerpuff Girls, the girls' absolute favorite show of all time. And, truth be told, I love it too. Three cutie pie sisters who kick serious villain ass, all with the best theme song of all time.
Anyway, we've been planning our costumes since July. And even though there was much discussion, there were holes in our plan. For instance, the dark-haired child probably shouldn't have been the blonde Bubbles. And the light haired child shouldn't have been the black-haired Buttercup. And they don't make green dresses for little girls. And, honestly, I'm not sure why a 38-year-old woman thought she could pull off a kindergarten-aged character. I always get a little crazy at Halloween.

Well, it wasn't a hit. But it wasn't a bust either. The girls already decided they want to be scary things next year. And the year after that they'll probably want to be he same thing as their friends. And then, I'm sure I'll have years and years of slutty Halloween costumes to battle. So this year we were sisters. Triplets. And we were just in time.

P-T conferences

I experienced the full range of emotions for this year's parent teacher conferences. First off, the scheduling for these meetings was impossible for a mom who works the night shift and gets roughly 8 solid hours of sleep each week. I had to wake up early and the meetings went like a little something like this:

Roll out of bed. Forget to brush teeth. Try NOT to look like a drug addict while nodding in agreement to everything. Apologize because it's difficulty to remember what grade your child is in.

The first meeting was with Penny's teacher. It went a little something like this:

Penny is wonderful. She is top of her class. She has many friends and she's very nice. She dresses great. She is very enthusiastic. Have you seen this artwork? How about this story she wrote? Where does she get her hair done?

Oh please... I am so rolling my eyes. I thank her teacher and try not to breath in her direction.

The second meeting was with Carol's teacher. It began a little something like this:

Do you mind if the school psychologist sits in on this meeting?

I'll go ahead and end that story there.

My pediatrician once told me not to compare my children. This is an impossible task because it's difficult not to say, "Why can't you be more like your sister and NOT get the psychologist involved?" But children are different and they bring a wide range of traits to the tiny table where parents sit to meet with their child's teacher. I really am grateful that my children are receiving the help they need, or the praise they deserve, at this new, wonderful school.

And thank goodness that's over until next year!

Rememberable mistakes

Remember that time, when you were a kid, when you're parents forgot to pick you up from practice. Or maybe, you had a class project they were supposed to help you with, but they forgot at the last minute and you ended up with some pasta glued to a poster board.

Steve remembers when his parents signed him up for soccer, only they didn't get him shin guards or cleats. He ended up shoving sticks in his socks.

Well, bad parenting moments have darkened our doorsteps this week. For sure.

While I forgot to give Penny her allergy medicine and forgotten to pack her snack, the worst lapse definitely was handed to Carol. We missed her soccer photos.

Yep. Sent Steve to the wrong field. By the time he got to the right field, you guessed it, pictures were over. So now, she'll have a bunch of solo soccer pictures, and a group picture without her. Awesome. Proof of our folly.

The week has pretty much gone like that. We decided to buy a white board so we can have a communal list of things that need to get accomplished. Hopefully this helps. Otherwise, we will continue to be the Keystone Cops of Metcalf families, tripping over our untied shoelaces while we race to whatever activity we happen to be late for.

The limit

I have been trying for years to extend myself beyond my capabilities and, I'm happy to report, I've succeeded at last.

Finally, I have come to the point where I can no longer add another activity to the roster. I can learn no new information. I cannot lose that last six pounds that keeps me overweight, BMI-inly speaking.

I am spent. Sure, the kids are out playing (aka, screaming) with the neighbors right now as I type away on this blog and they are in school for most of the day. Gone are the days of 15-minute stretches of toddler activity like block building and whatever other boring games parents play with their kids. But, for whatever reason, the working and running around required of school-aged children has presented a whole new set of challenges. And just when I had gotten the swing of things.

And here is why:

1) Night shift. I am always exhausted. Always. I don't remember the last time I felt great. I view Red Bull as a new food group. And I no longer sleep. I merely nap.

Today, I needed to pick Penny up from school at 1 p.m. I woke up at 1:00 p.m., on the nose. I was out the door and in line to get her at 1:05, and she didn't even know I was late. Or panicky. She did notice I still had a tag on my new shirt.

2) The minivan culture. I am constantly driving to pick somebody up or drop them off. I really am beginning to understand the sweatpants revolution. Why would you want to put on real pants when you never leave your car?

3) The scheduling. My calendar makes my head hurt. We have a color-coded, online calendar that send alerts about daily activities. And yet, I still was 10 minutes late from picking up Penny from her assessment this week. (What is it with forgetting Penny? Oh, and she's back to Penny, btw.)

4) Exhaustion. This deserves it's own category. Kids need to be out the door in the morning by 7:30. They have homework and activities and Barbie playtime, which means bedtime is rarely earlier than 8. I like to nap (see above) until 9. Then there are dishes to put away, lunches to pack, clothes to lay out, coffee to drink, schedules to check, etc., etc. Just so we can get up and start it all again tomorrow.

I'll end here, mostly because I'm too tired to go on. Today, as I was driving the girls home, Katy Perry's "Firework" came on the radio. It's the girls' favorite song, so sat in the driveway and sang it at the top of our lungs. Or, I tried to sing it. I was getting so weepy and emotional that my voices was cracking at the "Boom, Boom, Boom," part. That is what exhaustion does to a person. It makes Katy Perry deep.

This is my life. Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon. (sniff, sniff)

Vacation

I have very little time to blog these days. Between work, meetings, soccer practice and carting the kids back and forth to school each day, it seems I barely have time for the really important things in life. Like drinking wine.

But here's a little sample of vacation. The beach was beautiful. The guest house was beautiful. The weather was beautiful. My father-in-law was... well... let's just say he was there.

But the pictures, as you can see, are beautiful!

Hypochondriac

Carol, normally a very brave and oblivious little girl, has recently become very sensitive to ouchies. Her elbow hurts. Her cries are out of proportion with her injury. She has vague aches and pains.

The other day she said her ear hurt. Well, I stuck my finger in it to see if it was really true, just like a good mom. The pain, thankfully, was not on the inside. It was the lobe.

I asked her what she thought it was.

"I don't know," she snapped. "You're the nurse."

Ahhhh. Attitude. I've been waiting for you to arrive.

More than a month

Well, this has to be a new record. I blame the "Post it NOW!" culture of iPhones and Facebook on my neglect of this blog, but we all know whose lazy fault this is.

It's been a busy summer. The kids are getting so much older and work is ever present in our lives. We've spent a lot of time at the pool this summer, but we've also had a lot of guests who have been kind enough to visit this house of madness.

So, rather than go into very long, probably boring detail about the awesomeness of summer, here are some pictures. Because, really, I'm not so much great writer now. Use it or lose it. Well, consider me lost.

Pictures of my kids

Because they are so frickin' cute.

Moving on

I'm once again forced to address the concept of this blog. First, I wrote about staying at home with my kids. Then about nursing school. I'm not sure what my Dirty Little Secret has become. Maybe that I work really hard and then come home and and work really hard and then I sleep for at least four hours. No. That's not a secret. I'm constantly reminding my family of this.

Anyway, while I try to come up with the next focus of my life, other than my life, I'll retire last year's secret.

My Dirty Little Secret

It's my family's clothes. I'm headed back to school for a nursing degree through an accelerated bachelor program at Illinois State University. I'm pretty sure taking 62 credit hours in a single year will result in my family wearing dirty clothes. In a dirty house. With dirty faces.

2011 Resolutions – fail

I was gently reminded yesterday (thanks Monica) that my New Year's resolution list is a complete failure. Oh, I passed NCLEX, but that's pretty much where it ended. In my defense, I've been sorta busy and ambitious the last few years. I think it's probably OK to slack off a bit. Well, at least that's what I tell myself.

But let's take a little look at the list and where things went wrong.

1. Pass NCLEX!!!! A must-do. Done and done. Lookin' good!

2. Join a gym and train for at least 1 half marathon. Maybe two. Yes, let's say two. Fail. There's a pretty good chance I couldn't run a 5K right now, much less a half marathon. Let's continue.

3. Lose at least 10 pounds. I need to lose 20, but I'll take 10. Also, drink one glass of milk every day. Fail. I actually am losing a little bit of weight, due mostly to the fact that I stopped drinking during the week because it's frowned upon, and probably illegal, to go to work drunk. You'd think I could stick to the milk thing, but also fail.

4. Try to read the entire A section of the paper every day. Fail

5. Blog more, Facebook less. Double fail. Maybe triple fail. Facebook was once described to me like a soft addiction. Sort of like soft-core porn but less useful.

6. Be more patient with Carolyn. Fail.

7. Go to the dentist once this year and floss daily. Fail.

8. Get more involved in either church or the schools. Volunteer more. Fail.

9. Join a CSA this summer. Fail, but failed with effort. I tried to join one, but Lil' Brat, my in-law's dog, tried to attack the farm dogs at the CSA farm and instead of a CSA, I brought home $100 in paint damage to my in-law's car.

10. Try and be a more loving wife. After this last year, Lord knows, Steve deserves it. You'd need to get Steve's opinion on this, but I'd say fail. Turns out, changing core aspects of a personality is hard work. A bitch is a bitch, whether she's in a one-year accelerated nursing program or hanging out at home.

The better parent

I'm at the park right now. To my right, Penny practices t-ball. To my left, Carol (she's decided she's Carol now, not Carolyn) is at tennis.

Last week when steve brought them, and it was about 85 degrees at 9 a.m., he watched helplessly as all the other kids went for their water bottles and Penny stood there, parched and alone. This was not to be my fate, as I'm the better parent. You know, the one with the water bottles and the iPhone who occasionally lifts her head and gives a quick wave.

So summer is really here. It's only a shame j have this pesky job getting in the way of my life. Only, not today.

Penelope

Penny decided she doesn't want to be Penny anymore. She wants to be Penelope.

She's worth more than a Penny, she says.

Picnic

Carolyn and Penny had their class picnics at the same park this year. Penny's on Tuesday and Carolyn's on Thursday. Turns out, in true form to the bad luck surrounding Carolyn's first-grade experience, Thursday was the only day this week that was super crappy. Rain. In the 50s. Yuck.

And also an accurate portrayal of Penny's Pre-K experience, Tuesday was lovely. I **heart** every one of those tiny students. I haven't been around much this year, yet I know all of them by name and a little bit about their developing personalities. I know Penny's teachers love their jobs and they love our children.

I just wish I could say the same things about Carolyn's class. The difference makes me sort of sad, but this picture makes me happy.

iPhone

I recently got an iPhone, so I'm pretty brain dead at the moment. I spend most of my time setting stuff up and checking stuff.

Occasionally, I do stuff.

Not real life stuff. iPhone stuff. Because no way did I shower today. But I have started taking a lot of pictures. Like the neighbor's Slip and Slide.

Or the girls at the Children's Museum.
Or the girls at the Coffeehouse.

And I even have a little story.

Steve has this really annoying joke. If I say I like a song, he says, "I wrote it." If I say I like a shirt, he says, "I made it." If I say I like asparagus, he says, "I invented asparagus."

So you get it, right. Annoying.

The other day, the Sting song "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" came on Pandora. Steve mentions that it's sort of our song, to which Penny perfectly states: "Good thing I wrote that."

Well played Penny. Well played.

And one more thing. High speed rail is being built in Normal. Yay...

Self portrait

Fun at 5

Last night, after I called the girls in for dinner, Penny asked if she could go back out to play after she was done. I told her probably no. I thought it was going to storm.

"Oh yeah. I knew it was going to storm," she said.

Yeah? How's that?

"I read about it in the newspaper."

Penny and her buds at the park today.

Mother's Day

For Mother's Day, the girls woke me up at 6 a.m. Carolyn made me a breakfast of Cheerio's, yogurt, milk and a cookie. She watched to make sure I ate every bite.

The cards were nice. The flowers were nice. Chocolates? Yes. Very nice. But my favorite part of Mother's Day was spending some time with the girls, doing what we love to do.

For Carolyn, this was a 3 mile bike ride while I ran behind her. It was a lovely day as we ran/biked along the trail. We ended up at the playground where Steve had packed a picnic lunch.

Later, Penny and I went shopping. We bought some gifts. I bought some shirts. She got a shirt. I took a picture with her and a mannequin she thought was especially beautiful.

The day was not all sunshine. Residual exhaustion, coupled with a few too-strong margaritas, left me feeling a bit defeated. But we are left with these images to remember this Mother's Day. And even a song from Penny's Sunday school class. See how cute...

Ahhh... Metcalf

The Metcalf transition is one of the best things that's happened to our family in a while. And this is a family that has had a streak of good luck lasting well over two years. Here's why

Reason 1: Bullies. Carolyn has fallen victim to some very mean little girls. It's probably been going on most of the year, but Carolyn has hidden it from us. I happened to catch a piece of it the other day and was ready to call the superintendent from the complete lack of teacher supervision at that $^&*#$%% school. Apparently, the name Carolyn has become synonymous with cootie, and that is not acceptable.

After really talking about it this weekend, Carolyn convinced us that she will take care of it herself, because, in her words, "It's almost over and I'm going to Metcalf next year." Poor kid. And I think it's working. We worked on some anti-bully strategies and I think it might be helping.

I'm not so naive to think that bullies don't exist at fancy shmancy schools, I just hope the staff cares enough to try and stop it.

Reason 2: Pets in the classroom. Fairview does not allow such frivolous luxuries as hamsters, turtles or fish. Presumably, the administration is more concerned with ignoring bullies. Carolyn is pet crazy, so yeah for pets!

Reason 3: The playground. Fairview students are made to stand in straight lines while waiting for school to begin. For a first grader, 20 minutes standing in a straight line can be a long time. Do you know what they do to pass the time? You got it. They bully. Metcalf allows the students to play on the playground, or in the gym, until it's time to walk to class.

Reason 4: Drama. Carolyn will have drama class once a week.

Reason 5: Parents. The parents at Metcalf seem super friendly. I have been pretty absent this year because of school, the new job and working nights. But now that I'm getting more involved, and I'll have TWO kids at Metcalf, I feel like I'm being welcomed openly. The other day at Fairview (That's Fairview Elementary School in Normal IL), I tried to make small talk with this other mom who I know works at the same hospital I work. I say, "So, what department do you work in again?" She says, "OR," and walks away from me.

I'll stop writing now, as this is getting boring (They grow vegetables that they use in the school salad bar. The teachers blog weekly about what's happening in the classroom. They have a pool! OK, NOW I'll stop...) but I am so happy for this little life in Normal. Here's a picture of Penny with a classmate after their recent preschool performance. At Metcalf. Ahhhh.

Quick news

This will be fast for several reason, which I will outline here in great detail. Ha! I kid. I kid. I am on my way to a 12-hour overnight work shift in about five minutes, so I'll just come out and say it.

Carolyn got into Metcalf, which is a public laboratory school run by Illinois State U. that is... the bomb! This means Carolyn and Penny will both be attending the SAME school next year. All day. I can't believe how big they've gotten. I can't believe how big we've all gotten, mostly figuratively and only a little bit literally.

We will tour next week, so I'll point out all the awesomeness of this event soon. Now, off to work where, hopefully, my sick patients will only march in the direction of wellness.

The Otter and the Octopus

Let me just say, this has not been my finest week. I'm stressed out, pissed off and generally in a pretty foul mood. And Penny, a quite extraordinary child, sensed this about me and either a) discovered empathy or b) used this moment of weakness to her advantage.

At the library last week, she created the puppet show, "The Otter and the Octopus."

Turns out, Mrs. Octopus works nights. Poor Mrs. Octopus was sleepy and no fun during the day, and of course she was gone at night. Her three octopus babies were left to fend for themselves as their tired, neglectful mother ran off to earn a living in some frivolous night-shift type career such as, um... nursing? Or maybe prostitution?

So the tired mother runs off and leaves her babies alone. Later, the otter comes around and sees the babies. The otter decides it might be a good idea to take one. After all, they are motherless and alone.

Later, the tired Mrs. Octopus mom returns to find a baby missing. While this is very sad, the mother is tired and in need of some sleep. So she cuts her losses and drifts into an unsatisfactory morning nap.

I finally have to stop Penny after mom heads to work again and a bat is perched on the nursery door.

Penny, who will grow up to an actress, an artist, a doctor or a con artist, is so fun and interesting to be around, when she's not making me feel bad. Here's a fun Sunday picture. The girls LOVE Sunday mass, mostly because it affords them an opportunity to dress up. With accessories! Oh yeah, they love Jesus and all, but it's mostly about the clothes. And the shoes.