I believe what we have here is A Failure To Communicate.

We have 9 therapies a week.
A babysitter.  A nurse for Alexander.
An entire Pediatrician’s staff that bends over backwards to do whatever we need.
Every Specialist ever invented involved in Alexander’s care.
People who watch the twins on a moment’s notice.
And then – of course – family and friends.

All of whom – we would like to show appreciation for this holiday season.

I got this great idea.  Let’s give Chocolate to our “Alexander” team.  We could go to that really nice candy store downtown and get boxes of candy for everyone.  We could get this huge platter of assorted chocolates for the Pediatrician’s office.  We would show everyone how much we love them…. in the way only Chocolate does.

Then I priced this endeavor. And decided to re-think my plans.  The homemade chocolate was going to cost us a fortune at $7.00 a pound.  And we love them more than a pound’s worth!  So I devised a little plan.

I sent my husband out on a mission.  Get boxes of Chocolates from Wal-Mart.  Also – get small gift bags or little boxes so we could “make our own.”  Everyone would assume they came from the expensive candy store.  And … well… that could be our little secret.

Husband went to Wal-Mart.  Mission Completed. 



My “Little Gift Bags”




Seriously?!?!!?!? These were the size of full on Gift Bags!!!  He said, “Well… they had bigger sizes, so I figured this is what you wanted.”





My “Candy”



CRAP!!!!! What credible candy stores sell pre-wrapped Santas! And Hershey Kisses and Candy Canes? These don’t look like GOURMETTE CHOCOLATES!



**Upon reflection**
1. You shouldn’t try to “scam” people on their Holiday gifts.  Especially chocolate.
2.  Apparently my husband and I really need to communicate better.

I’m going to start a “Therapy” fund… ‘Cause they are going to need it.

I’m going to pour my heart out. Ready? I love my life.  Most of the time.

Look at how well Alexander is standing! Can you see that my fingers are not touching him? Only my thumbs and ring fingers.  I wish I could get a picture of him standing somewhere other than the tub… but – what can I say? He likes to stand there.


Anyway, Our life… the good, the bad, the ugly… I don’t mind sharing it.  I hope people will read it, identify with us, offer us hope, and find hope from the resilience of my family.  However… Ray would be just fine with our life being private … kept just to us.  Sometimes I share too much.  This week, for PYHO, I thought I would tell you a purely fictional story.  Because, there is no way 2 – college educated parents of 3 could have so many “mishaps” in one evening.  No way.  We only make great parenting decisions… so please remember that that this post in no way represents the people or opinions of this blog.



Once upon a time there was this family.  For sake of argument, let’s call the dad Ray and the mom Kristen.  And pretend they have twins named… Andrew and Addison.  And, maybe they have another kid named Alexander.  (This will just help us keep the story strait.  No way implying the people in this story are real.)

This family decided to go camping very soon.  They made preparations. 


They had tents.



This family was known for “testing” things before the big event.  In fact, they practiced hunting Easter Eggs before Easter, Dressing up for Halloween, and other events were serious melt downs could occur.  The Daddy decided he and the twins should “practice” camping in the back yard to ensure no “freak outs” happened during our first big trip.



First…. the Daddy set up that small, baby sized tent.  The twins eagerly asked, “Is that our tent?”  Mommy thought, “well… maybe they are going to squeeze into that tiny tent so no one is scared.”






Then…. the Daddy set up the big, family sized tent.  The twins eagerly asked, “Is that our tent?”  Mommy thought, “Probably Ray is just vacuuming out those tents for while he is messing with the camping stuff.” 


When the Daddy came inside, the twins asked, “Daddy – what tent are WE sleeping in tonight?”  At this point, I’m pretty sure Ray was suffering from some concussion or something … because he answered, “You twins are sleeping in the small tent and I am going to sleep in the big tent.”

He wasn’t joking. Seriously. He thought the twins would be sleeping in one tent and we would sleep in the other.  Have I mentioned that in this “hypothetical” story the twins are not yet 3 years old?

The Mommy might have gone a little crazy.  She might have started yelling things about slasher movies and John Walsh and ….. it might have gotten a little out of hand.  In the end – the twins and the Daddy might have decided to sleep in the same big family tent.

 

*Crisis averted*

At this point, the Mommy probably decided to go visit a friend in the hospital.  She probably dropped Alexander off with his grandma and headed down to spend some time with one of her lifelong friends.  She might have gotten home (with Alexander) close to 10pm.  Let’s just say… 9:50.  She turned off the headlights as she pulled in the driveway as to not wake her sleeping family.  Only, when she opened her door… she heard twin giggles and the screams of WWF style body slams.  I’m not going to lie.  If this story were REAL … it was hilarious.  They would shout to each other, “No! Don’t get me!”  Followed by a body slam.  Apparently Ray blew up the air mattress for them and they thought it was like a wrestling ring.  The Mommy couldn’t help but laugh and laugh because they were so cute. 


The Mommy went in to put Alexander to bed and clean a bit in the house.  She couldn’t turn on any of the lights because she was afraid the light would shine into the tent.  So … she cleaned in the dark.  Just as she was putting the finishing touches on the kitchen, she realized she had several soda cans left on the counter.  The Mommy decided to be a “good wife” and throw those cans in the recycling bin outside.  As she crept out the door, she heard the blessed sound of silence.  She smiled at the thought of her sleeping babies.  She carefully placed those cans in the recycling bin and turned to go back inside.

When she realized she had locked herself out of the house.  Completely out.  No jiggling of the door fix.  No hidden key. 

And she realized she would have to go wake her sleeping husband (who…. due to her insistence was sleeping right next to the twins) to help her break back into the house.

*There are no pictures of this …*

I would like to end the story here…. for the sake of the “kids” and anyone else who is reading.  No one needs to know what happened after this – except - the hypothetical couple were happily in love the next morning.

Because I couldn’t resist – here are a few more cute pictures taken today of the real Andrew, Addison, and Andrew … and our beautiful life. (Under the guidance of great parenting.)



So…. have any “fictional” stories that would make you look like Parent of the Year?  Come on… make us all feel better.  Did you suggest letting your twin toddlers sleep alone at a campsite?  Did you wake your entire family at 10:30 because you locked yourself out of the house?  Spill it. 

Friday's Confession Booth: I’m a “Borrower”

Welcome to Friday's Confession Booth. To participate - you write a "Confession Post." It doesn't have to be serious, and you can read more about them HERE. Make sure you Enter the link-up below.  Then grab the button and place it in your post to link back and share with everyone's confessions.




<center><a href=”http://www.alittlesomethingforme.com” target=”_blank”><img border=”0″ alt=”A Little Something for ME” src=”<a href="http://s323.photobucket.com/albums/nn464/kstottlemyer/?action=view&current=confessionbooth1.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i323.photobucket.com/albums/nn464/kstottlemyer/confessionbooth1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>"></a>“/></a></center>  
Here’s the thing. I borrow things.

I like that term better than “steal” – because… well, stealing is illegal and immoral.

I don’t mean to do it.  It’s not like I’m a kleptomaniac.  It’s not like I walk into a store and then walk out with unpaid things.

It is worse.

I “borrow” things from my family and friends.

And … never take the time to return them.

There.  You know my deep dark secret. 

These spoons?  They are my Aunt Mary’s.  She brought them to Thanksgiving dinner – at my old house – before I was married.  That means I’ve “borrowed” them for about 6 or 7 years.  I even took them to Christmas or Easter one year – but she didn’t show.  So, I still have them.  Aunt Mary – If you are reading this… I’m really sorry.

I have a TV (it is a 13 inch in my defense) that I “borrowed” from my Mom.  I actually tried to let my darling graduate borrow it when she left for college.. because she really needed it and my mom doesn’t anymore. (Does that make me a socialist thief?)


These hot pink velvet maternity sweat pants I’m wearing are “borrowed” from someone.  Truth – I don’t even know where I’ve borrowed them from. *sigh*  I just know that one day I woke up with hot pink velvet maternity sweat pants in my drawer and they are so comfortable… I’m wearing them right now as I type this.  Don’t believe me?  Check it out. 

I told you… I have no shame anymore.


Honestly – I could go on.  Outfits, CD’s (back when CD’s were cool), baking pans, jewelry, … the list never ends.

But, I swear, I’m not really a bad person.  I’m just forgetful.  Especially with other people’s things.


So. There you have it.  My deep dark secret.  Would you like to confess your secrets?

Just grab the button from the top to link back and enter the Link up.

Get Back on that Horse.

I have no pictures from the first day of school.  I was called down in an “emergency” …. One of my children played too hard.  They played so hard that they forgot to stop and take a potty break. 

By the time I got there with a change of shorts and underwear… that child was a “hot mess.”  Pants, underwear, socks, and even shoes were soaked.  (We needed to get new shoes tonight.)  I’m not going to name this child because – the truth is – it could have been either of them.  It could be any child.  I'm also sure this was the big conversation of Preschool.

Going somewhere new is so hard.  Everyone is new. The rules are new. The expectations are new.  When I got there… my child was crying a hysterical cry … “I want to go home.”

“I want to go home.”  I said those same words about 20 couple years ago.

I was in the 4th grade and went to a local church camp.  The last night was this big dinner – parents and everyone came.  Before we went down – our counselor asked us if we needed to use the bathroom.  Of course I didn’t.  Half way through the meal – I did.  I told my counselor and she didn’t believe me.  She said to hold it.  I couldn’t.  I was 10 years old and peed myself during a huge banquet… and sat quiet, using my feet to try to contain the puddle under my chair.

When we were finally able to leave the banquet – I ran to the bathroom and soaked my entire skirt – so the whole thing looked wet – not just the backside.

I don’t think I fooled anyone.  And I never went back to that camp.  I remember telling my mom, “I just want to go home.”

Ps…. Prior to this post – I could count the number of people who knew this story on 1 hand.

I’m so proud of my kids.  I know they are not yet 3 and will probably never remember this incident.  But… my child changed their clothes and went back to play.  My child is going back to Preschool tomorrow – despite being the “kid who peed their pants.”  I couldn’t be prouder.  Way to get back on that horse.  You are my role model.

Friday’s Confession Booth: I don’t care enough to hide it

Welcome to Friday's Confession Booth. To participate - you write a "Confession Post." It doesn't have to be serious, and you can read more about them HERE. Make sure you Enter the link-up below.  Then grab the button and place it in your post to link back and share with everyone's confessions.



<center><a href=”http://www.alittlesomethingforme.com” target=”_blank”><img border=”0″ alt=”A Little Something for ME” src=”<a href="http://s323.photobucket.com/albums/nn464/kstottlemyer/?action=view&current=confessionbooth1.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i323.photobucket.com/albums/nn464/kstottlemyer/confessionbooth1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>"></a>“/></a></center>  

Confession for this Friday? 

I take random photos of things that I think are funny or ridiculous … and then usually never do anything with them.  Usually – it takes me too long between the picture taken and the event I wanted to associate it with, so they just sit on my phone.  So here they are.  Complete with captions.

* Remember… taken with a cell phone – so we’re not entering any photo contest here.
** Most of my life involves some sort of embarrassing scenario or another.

Life here is still a Series of Unfortunate Events.  But, we still laugh. I guess my real confession this week is… that I don’t really care that we look like a bunch of nuts.  I’m proud that we can laugh at ourselves.

Confessing with us?  Come on! Join the fun.  Just Grab the Button to link back and enter your info below.

Friday’s Confession Booth: I’m a Hot Mess

Welcome to Friday's Confession Booth. To participate - you write a "Confession Post." It doesn't have to be serious, and you can read more about them HERE. Make sure you Enter the link-up below.  Then grab the button and place it in your post to link back and share with everyone's confessions



<center><a href=”http://www.alittlesomethingforme.com” target=”_blank”><img border=”0″ alt=”A Little Something for ME” src=”<a href="http://s323.photobucket.com/albums/nn464/kstottlemyer/?action=view&current=confessionbooth1.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i323.photobucket.com/albums/nn464/kstottlemyer/confessionbooth1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>"></a>“/></a></center> 
It has been brought to my attention that I’m a hot mess.

I thought I was hiding it so well.

Apparently, I’m not.

I’ve stopped making my “healthy lunches” – tortilla pizzas with low fat cheese.
Instead I’ve opted to buy chips, snicker’s bars, hoagies, and sodas for lunch.
This morning, I stopped at Sheetz – grabbed two custard filled Doughnuts, two 2-liter bottles of regular Pepsi (they were on sale … 2 for $3.00), and a 12 – inch hoagie for lunch.  Oh- and a 24 oz Cappuccino.  It was Fat Free… so does that count?

Cappuccino – down. Doughnuts – down.  One of the bottles of Pepsi – down.  Hoagie – down.  I actually carried the bottle of Pepsi down with me to lunch… where my friends confronted me with the cold hard facts:  I’m a hot mess.

My fat pants are starting to cut off circulation to my legs again.  My fat pants are hand-me-downs from a cousin who is shorter than me… so they are a little on the short side.  This means I have to wear flats… and still I look like I’m wearing high – waders.  My “flats” – could use an update.  Apparently, this has been the topic of conversation since the last time I “flip-flopped” my way through the building. 

I’m tired… like all the time tired.  Confession?  I’ve broken out in hives.  Yeah, like a 7th grader on a bad day.  Isn’t there some rule that after you ‘round 30 …. hives should not be in your vocabulary?  My doctor’s solution?  I should – decrease my stress and take these anti-histamines that basically are like elephant tranquilizers.  hmmmm… Yeah, I’ll get right on that.)The smallest thing will have me itching at my eye / chest / arms / legs like I’m covered in some rare form of poison.  I’m itching right now – base of the neck – because I’m writing this.

I slept through my lunch break 2 days ago.  I could not get up to eat … if you know me – you know this means I’m really tired.  Yesterday, I slept through dinner.  At 4:15 pm, I told Ray, “I’m so sorry.”  And promptly fell asleep.  When I woke, about an hour later, I realized I missed dinner.  Ray did tell me there was a lot of yelling that occurred over the course of the meal (I slept maybe 10 ft from our table) …. but I didn’t hear a word of it.

I couldn't find Birthday wrapping Paper..

Enter the caffeine-o-rama today.  I have to get a grip.  I’m hoping the sugar and caffeine can keep me awake so I can finally just crash at bedtime.  Oh – and not wake up a mere 2 hours later. 
I need to make it to the post office to mail out some things tonight.  I need to get a new pair of shoes tonight.  I probably need to get groceries… tonight.

I could use a hair cut, highlights done, eyebrows waxed, and a pedicure.  I would love a guilt free day where I magically got skinnier while being pampered.  I would love to be able to juggle my life’s tennis balls a little better.  I would love to hit Powerball.

Confession:  I do not have it all together.  I am currently a hot mess.  My shoe/flip-flop is falling apart.  I’m waiting anxiously for this weekend so maybe I can pull myself together.

That is my Friday’s Confession. What is yours?  Link up – Don’t forget to grab the button to link back and enter your post below.