The Days Are Long....

The other day a friend of mine posted about enjoying the mess in regards to her kiddos and how one day that mess will be gone.
I immediately though of the saying: "The days are long but the years are short"
Then I posted it.
Then I thought: Well, wasn't that the the most pretentious and cliche shit to say.
Then thought...yeah but it's true.
Then I though - OMG - all of my kids are in school!  Kait's out in 2 years and counting and the babies are hovering around 11 more years.
Then I thought: Shit, 2 years...11 years...That's fast as fuck for one and OMG - the I'm gonna be dead before the babies ever leave my damn house!
Then I thought:  Shit, shit, shit....I also haven't blogged in like forever.  I've got to do something or the kids are gonna have a really shitty baby book (read the intro page if you're confused here)

Then I opened the blog and  blew the dust off to find this little gem that I'd completely forgotten about.  (I was probably interrupted before I could post it)

As soon as I saw the title I knew I had to finish this shit and add an update!
Here it is in all it's glory circa June(ish) 2017:

THE DAYS ARE LONG, BUT THE YEARS ARE SHORT

Last night we registered Big Red for High School.

I didn't even cry!  

It was actually fun. 

She was excited (when she would forget to act too cool to be excited).  We were all kind of excited. 

Holy shit y'all - This isn't the same High School we went to!  

The classes are insane: Forensic Science, Sculpting, Mythology, Hydrology, Engineering.  

More than anything it didn't feel real.  

I felt like I should still be the one in high school NOT my baby.

Jesus, how did 14 years go by so fast?  I don't know when it happened, but my baby is not only a young lady, but damn near an adult.

In four years she'll be on her own.  She'll be her own person and I'll have to take a seat on the sidelines and watch her life unfold.  

Four years used to feel like a lifetime.  Today it feels far to soon and all too real.

Four years ago I had an 10 year old a 2 year old and and a baby.  Four years ago I didn't think we'd get here.  I didn't think I'd make it through the day at times.  

Years ago I was whining to a friend about how impossible my life was with "all these damn children that D forced me to have so he could trap me into marriage..." and her response was "The days are long, but the years are short."

I held in my eye roll and the snide remark, but I wanted to tell her there's NOTHING short about shitty diapers and midnight feedings other than the short little assholes who make and require them.  (Don't call CPS or assume I'm a horrible shit:   I had two babies under 18 months and a middle-schooler ALL while working full time! Oh! Also don't forget - D was working out of town Monday through Thursday so I was doing this by myself even though I technically had a back-up. 
Anyway,  back off  Judgy-McJudgerson - I earned the right to call them assholes)


Now that quote makes me cry like a damn idiot.  

Last night on the way home from cheer she asked me a question and I wanted to give her an answer that she would always remember, but about 40 seconds into my heartfelt response I saw her staring into the vanity mirror making kissy faces and taking selfies...

I realized a few things:

1)  I'll have to print this out as a book because she won't actually "feel my pain" till she's feeling her own

2) She's still a dick

2) She makes a really good kissy face

3) Even if I forced her to listen to my speech she wouldn't get it...it's not even in her realm of thought yet. 

The End

Fast forward about a year:

09/20/2018

The days are still really fucking long (mostly because my teenager has a cell phone and repeatedly texts me about shit that can wait till later...and meetings - always meetings)



The years are a vortex of mind fuckery:
They seem short in reference to big Red.  Oh my god do they seem short!  I don't know where 15 years went.  I feel like shes slipping through my fingers in front of my eyes.  But they're also amazing and wonderful and fun.

She's a real person with empathy and shit now (tempered by teenage hormones of course),but shes just fun to be with in general. Shes got amazing friends who are just as insane as she is - I never thought I could really truly love a bunch of overly dramatic teenage girls but I've acquired about 6 bonus daughters since my last post.  They are all possibly clinically insane and belong in an drama troupe touring the world, but they're smart, and funny, beautiful, caring and they lift each other up and are genuinely happy when the others succeed and supportive like no other.  (Some of you bitches could learn a lesson or two from the crazy girls....just sayin') 





The years are still relatively slow for the babies...

Lannie is in Kindergarten and and I feel like we've been practicing sight words for 6,000 years and we still only know 3 of them.  What really slows it down is shat she really doesn't give a flying fuck if she learns them or not.  Clearly, shes a princess and we should all be grateful that she bothered to learn the 3 that she did.
(OMG this child hurts my fucking head...but Jesus shes cute)

Jaxon is still Jaxon - teetering between guns and cars and video games.  He's still the same old dependable Jaxon. He hates vegetables and his favorite food group is FD&C Red No. whatever (maybe even a little yellow dye too).   I'm fully convinced that he's the only one who will not stick our asses in a nursing home.  I'm working on secretly hinting that he's the favorite in an effort to get nice digs when I'm crapping myself while still making him taste carrots and green beans.  It's a fine line...

The general day to day hasn't changed much
I still don't have a clue if I'm coming or going...No more shitty diapers and midnight feedings, but now I have 3 little moochers to verbally remind me when I fuck up and buy the crappy snacks.







I also have 3 wonderful humans who are all capable of saying "Thank You" and "I Love You" - they even say it sometimes too.

Some days are long, some feel like they're never gonna fucking end, some aren't long enough, but the years aren't really noticeable till they're gone.  Then they're so fucking short it's scary.....

    

Mother's Day Thoughts....and that stupid video

Oh the feels......

I don't know if it's the fact that my babies are growing up or the vast differences in ages and stages that's making my desire for time to slow down so overwhelming.

The babies are growing into kids and becoming more independent each day.

That part is easy, but in-between removal of training wheels and sleepless toddler nights my oldest is turning into a woman faster than I can comprehend.

I'm cheering the toddlers on to childhood and at the same time silently begging for time to stand still with the Big. 

 I'm so ready for a full nights sleep, first days of kindergarten and sleeping in because the little's are big enough to get cereal or turn on the TV, but I know the reality of this means Big will be on her way to independence. 

I'm NOT ready for drivers licenses, high school, proms, first dates, college or moving out.

Somewhere in the shitstorm of 2 new babies and surviving life with them my first baby grew up and I feel like I missed it.

Kaitlynn, thank you for making me a mom for the first time. Thank you for not being breakable and bouncing when we dropped you. Thanks for being such a good baby that you l tricked me into thinking I knew what I was doing.

Terrorists- thank you for not completely driving me insane all of the time. Thank you for making it so crazy that we didn't have time worry about the cluster that was/is our daily lives. THANK YOU for FINALLY crapping in a toilet and saving me from one more day of that shit....literally.

Its bittersweet watching each of you grow up.  While I'd like to keep you all little and protected, I cannot wait to meet the adults that you each become (unless one of you is in jail - I don't want to meet that one....just run away now)

I Need a Nap, a Xanax and a Margarita

Tiny Terrorist will be 3 on Sunday.
Boy Terrorist is 4 and Big Red will be 13 in just over a month.

Yes...that's her everyday sass

My babies are growing up.

I don't know whether to cry, throw a party or move out of the house.

I knew my experiences with the terrorists would be somewhat different because of their gender (one boy, one girl), but it didn't even occur to me the giant sea of difference I would experience between them and big red.

I feel like I'm living in the mind of bi-polar person.....on drugs 

This morning I got the full spectrum from cleaning up pee to making make-up pit stops.
Here's the summary of my morning (6:00AM - 8:00AM)

• Tiny terrorist peed her pants - while standing next to the toilet....because she wanted me to lift her on to it and hold her toilet paper for her until she was ready to wipe. (she's fully capable of getting up there on her own - she does it 90% of the time.  She also has no problem pulling, holding and stuffing an entire roll of TP in the toilet on any other day) 

• I had to explain for the 5,678th time to Boy Terrorist that no, he could not bring his nerf shot gun to school, then I had to explain that he also couldn't bring his nerf pistol.....no, not even if you hide it in your underpants.

• Find shoes for both terrorists after an exhaustive 42 second search party was completed by the terrorists (the shoes were in the shoe box....where they are every morning for the last 2 years) 

• Carry both terrorists to the car because they cannot walk they are just too exhausted and "If you love us you'll carry us" (courtesy of Boy terrorist)

• Return to house after pulling out of driveway so big red cold retrieve her headband.....because no ponytail is complete without a big ass band of elastic strapped to your forehead.  (The door was locked...which just ruined it all...making a trip back to the car for keys and then back to the house was out of the question - commence pouting)

• Big red notices that my make up isn't in the car and she has no make-up. (and OHMYGAWD...she has to have mascara and eyeliner because her "eyes are different sized"....no shit that's what she said)  So googly-eyes announces that this is "THE WORST MORNING EVER" 

• I concede to stop by her fathers house so she can get make up to un-googly-eye herself.  We get make up and googly announces that all she has is bronzer and her face will be all brown and uneven and this really is "THE WORST MORNING EVER"   (Um, why does she even have bronzer...I don't even know what to do with bronzer)  Tears flow....

• We show up at daycare and Tiny Terrorist informs me she is not going today....she wants to go to gymnastics.  Commence flopping out of car seat, flinging self on ground and generally being an asshole.  I explain to her that gymnastics is after daycare when the sun is getting ready to go to sleep.  Mercifully, she enters daycare with Boy terrorist with no other argument.

No actual "Googly-Eyes" - Shes absolutely beautiful

• Back to googly eyes....shes in full blown teenager meltdown mode slamming my visor mirror, crying and mumbling about uneven eyes, splotchy skin and worst mornings ever.  I gave up...I drove across town to my office so she could use my make up then drove back across town to bring the now beautified un-googley-eyed big red to school. (I fought the urge to tell her her eyes still looked the same as they did at 6AM, just with more junk on them...)  

Crisis averted, all kids are safely in the care of somebody-fucking-else for the day.  I feel like I need a nap, a Xanax and a margarita. I really didn't think this whole future thing through.....

I Still Don't Know Who Wiped His Butt....

For at least 2 years now I've been bitching about Boy Terrorist's sleeping habits...as in he doesn't have any.
I think I even called him a crack head...

I can't even pinpoint the night that it all changed...

A few evenings ago I told the boy it was bedtime.  He got up, grabbed my hand and walked up to his bedroom with me.   He got in bed and asked for a kiss and that was it.
No flailing on the ground, no sobs, no protests, no begging for 10 more minutes....

When I got back downstairs and recovered from my shock I realized that bedtime has been easy with him for quite some time now.

Holy shit....he's growing up.  I began to curse time and wrack my brain for all the other things he wasn't doing anymore.
Did he still ask for hugs, did he still need daddy to read him a story, when was the last time he asked me to wipe his butt.....shit! literally shit!

I didn't have time to evaluate any further because of the howling coming from upstairs.
That howling was high pitched and coming from the room next to the golden boy.  As I got closer I could make out the sentence.  "MOOOOOOM!  I need a drink of water!"  over and over and over...and louder each time.

I got princess terrorist her drink of water and realized that we didn't even have to get the golden boy water anymore - he just tells us what he's doing and gets his own water and goes back to bed.

I began to curse time again....again I was interrupted by princess terrorist - she needed a story, then a kiss, then a hug.....then she was crying but didn't know why.

Next she needed a band aid for her shoulder....I don't know why.  I didn't even ask her.  It was almost midnight and I would have covered her pretty little body with band aids if it meant I could get some fucking sleep.

About a week into this ritual I realized that the tides have shifted.
My boy is growing up.

Whats more depressing than my boy growing up is the fact that his sister is following in his footsteps and she's worse than he EVER was!!!

I didn't have much time to dwell on this either because as soon as I got into his new chapter the bastards turned the table on us once again...

For the last week both kids have gone to bed quietly and with little resistance.  I should have known they were up to something....

 About 25 minutes after we put them to bed (just long enough for us to get comfortable in our own bed)  we hear a blood curdling scream come from the boys room.
Only one problem - it's his sister's voice making the scream...
We run in to the boys room and there he is SOUND ASLEEP.  Just behind him is his sister.  Screaming because she wants down.  (If you don't remember Jax has a fancy loft firehouse bed that's accessed through a cutout ladder)

This is in my bed and as you can see it's daylight so of course they're both sound asleep....

We're still not sure how he gets her up there, but we're going on night 3 of this shit and it's like fucking groundhog day.

I don't know whether I should be sad that he's growing up, happy that he loves his sister or just pray for the madness to stop.

I am in the market for a ladder though.  Maybe if she can get herself down after the boy nods off we can all get some sleep....