Enter Circus Music

For about a year now, Jeff has started a circus theme, whenever things start, well, seeming like a circus. Like they tend to... a lot.
You know, do do dodi do do do do do do....

Someone could've blasted circus music last night. In our car. On our long trip back from Grandma's house in Arkansas (I couldn't have made up that line if I wanted to).

You see, Gabe's been potty trained for about a year now, but BMs? -- not so easy to hold.
And me, I've been prone to car sickness my WHOLE life. And it doens't take much when I'm riding in a car, to make me queasy.

So, when Gabe yelled up to us (as we were 30 minutes from home, had been in the car for 6 hours), "Me gotta poo poo! Me SICK!!!!"
My response to Hot Hubs was, "Pull off at the next exit" & I gave an encouraging, 'You can hold it Buddy' to my boy in his 5-point harness.
"NOOOOOOOOO, Me SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
And.
Was.
He.
Ever.
...and when I turned around to start the unbuckling process, we were still on the hwy (which I HATE).
But, the boy said he had to go.
But, the really bad things is,
he already had.
Went, that is.

So, when I turned around (car still going down the hwy), to sit him on our in-car potty (yes, I'm a germ-phobe & keep a potty seat in the car, for such occasions), I had no idea, that his undies were, um, full.

Until his hands went in them. And my hands went in them. And the smell filled our car. And here came the heaves.
Gag.
Gag.
Gag.

And before I knew it I was yelling, "PULL OVER, I'M GOING TO PUKE."
And I did.

Oh yah, did I mention the 100 MPH winds?

Ever seen puke blow sideways??

I have.

Right onto my open door.

And,
if we were a reality show. Like I think we should be.
The last few seconds of that episode, would've panned back to that particular spot on I-55.
To Gabe's Spidey & Friends undies.
Where we left them.

A Parenting Low

I feel like I am at an all-time low w/ my parenting. My children are misbehaving, they seem unyhappy with the other, and worst of all, I'm reacting to them exactly like I shouldn't.

I'm sure it's a combination of Jeff's long hours, me being sick, me being tired & then in turn - superimpatient.

I do not like to tell them something more than once. If I repeat myself, I feel like I am making a major parenting error.

Jeff & I had a beautiful black lab, Marley (yes, named after Jeff's favorite reggae singer, Bob). Marley was given all sorts of opportunities (other than growing up into an adult dog) to behave. One of them was obedience training.
One of the things we learned was to say 'no' ONCE.
If he didn't obey at that ONE TIME of saying 'no' (or given a command), he was punished -- more like redirection. (you say sit once. he didn't sit that once. we MADE him sit.)
While going through this training, I vocalized how similar this was to child-rearing. And as unflattering as it sounds to be compared to a dog, it's the truth.

I saw this confirmed in the episodes of supernanny & nanny 911 I saw.

But this is real life. And Jo Frost isn't in the next room observing me. I have life to do. And places to be at a certain time. And I don't always feel like keeping a low tone or squatting down & speaking to them at their level.
I feel like yelling, "I said to put on your shoes!" Or getting mad when Gabe grabs Flynn's hair. Because life gets in the way. And I am not perfect. Much less than actually.

But that is not my kids' faults. And this is their only childhood. I want it to be as perfect as it can humanly be. When we don't have a good day & I didn't even come close to exhibiting Christ-likeness, I kneel beside their bed & ask them to forgive me. And when we pray, we ask God to forgive us both.

That's forgiveness.

I need to get back to being proactive.

Each day this week, I've said to Jeff (the one time I get to talk to him during the day), "Tonight, can we have a family meeting & make a chart?"
Then, the kids are either in bed, or we're all too tired to make it happen.

But tonight's the night. Late or not. Tired or not. We'll have charts all over the place. Charts for listening. Charts for being fight-free. Stickers gallore.

Maybe I should have a chart?

We Should Be a Reality Show

We've been saying that ever since we said "I do" & it only seems to ring more true through time & all the experiences we - well, experience.

And not exempt from that are the W E I R D neighbors we have.

Let me just give a little background info to paint an accurate picture.

Our subdivision is a pretty nice one. The oldest home is probably less than seven years, ours is six years old, & the newest are just a couple of years old. Most of the subdivision is made of homeowners who show a great deal of care of their home & lawn, & appear to be pretty wonderful people to live next to.

We don't live on that street.

No sir.

We live in party cove. On frat row. Where the living's good & people party like it's 1999.

For real.

Now the craziest we get here is a little game night now & again. Or having friends over for a dinner that extends to the late hour of 10 o'clock.

Insanity.

But I realize that a good portion of the world, live a tad different than us. And so with that understanding is a realization that our neighbors are going to have some fun every once in a while that might mean more cars in our cul de sac, or some laughter outside our window while we're watching the nightly news (on the tv we don't have).

What I don't understand, is the neighbors to our left, who we refer to as "Bussies" (because she drives a small bus which she parks IN HER DRIVEWAY or ON OUR ROAD between bus runs or when she's home for lunch --I wish I was joking!!), partying in their INFLATABLE pool, with ANOTHER COUPLE, at 1 a.m., with their 1980's BOOMBOX pumping out some classic rock.

Or how ONLY 4 people sounded like 10 outside our window while I tried to get a good night's sleep (because some people get up early on a Sunday morning).

And how it sounded like they were tearing down our privacy fence & throwing around an empty bucket.

Also, why would you crank up a radio to unbelievable decibals, while entertaining another couple.?

Another reason we're ready to move.