IF I  HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER – by Erma  Bombeck (written after she found out she was dying from cancer).

• I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.
• I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
• I would have talked less and listened more.
• I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.
• I would have eaten the  popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
• I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his  youth.
• I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
• I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
• I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.
• I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
• I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t  show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
• Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle..
• When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, Later… Now go get washed up for dinner.’ There would have been more ‘I love you’s’ More ‘I’m sorry’s.’
• But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute, look at it and really see it. Live it and never give it back. STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!

Don’t worry about who doesn’t like you, who has more, or who’s doing what. Instead, let’s cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us…

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2002 – Graduated college, moved out of state, got two new jobs, got engaged

2003 – Married, another 2 new jobs, bought a house!

2006 – Baby! Also, another new job

2007 – Another new job (yeah, I’ve had a few…) and a new car

2008 – Another baby!

2009 – Sold the house, sold the car and bought a new (used) one and got a new job (again…)

2010 – Bought a new house!  We plan to be there for a loooong time.  Also, another new job.  But, I plan to stay here for a loooong time as well.

So the past 7 years have had lots of life changes.  But there are no new babies.  There will be no new house or car purchases or job changes in the foreseeable future.  So what do you think, will I get bored without change?

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When you tell me that I can’t lift anything heavier than 10 pounds for 6 hours after donating blood, I believe you.  I don’t want to rearrange my entire day around a blood donation but I do.  I do it because I believed that you needed it.  That there are people in dire need of donated blood. I don’t particularly enjoy the arm stick or the colossal amount of time it takes for a 15 minute donation, but I do it because I thought it was a good thing, something to help the greater good.

Advertising a blood drive at a local church and then changing the location at the last minute with just a sign on the door?  Not cool.  But, I had reserved my 1 hour lunch break for blood donation, so I hopped in my car and drove to your updated location.  Only to find out that if I didn’t make an appointment (who the hell makes an appointment to donate blood?) then you can’t see me until 3:45.  Well guess what?  I’ve already wasted my lunch break trying to find you.  I don’t have time to go back at 3:45.  And after work?  I’ll have 2 kids with me, and as the oh-so-unfriendly sign on the side of your mobile unit says, they aren’t allowed in the bus (not that I would be insane enough to try to take them with me in the first place).

That sucked, wasting my lunch break for that.  But you know what really, really pisses me off?  The fact that you called my cell phone and asked me to come to this blood drive.  You. Called. Me.  You asked for my blood.  You gave me the date, time and location and asked me to come.  What the hell is wrong with you???  You ask me to come, and even though I had to jump through hoop after hoop I went.  And when I finally got there, you told me thanks but no thanks.

Well screw you.  It’s going to be a few cycles before I’m willing to consider jumping through your hoops again.  And if you are brave enough to actually call me again, be prepared for a lengthy rant on your inconsiderate and rude business practices.

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Photo taken with my iPhone this morning

I read an interesting article on Strollerderby yesterday by Ms. Judgey McJudgerton.  Go ahead, check it out.  I’ll wait.

I think my favorite quote is this

“Call me old-fashioned, but I’ve never liked watching children play with handheld devices in public.”

Which makes cell phone use sound like something dirty, that we should only do in the privacy of our own homes, and even then we should make sure the curtains are drawn.

Which then makes me think back on the eleven million times I’ve let both my 3-year-old and my 1-year-old sons use my iPhone.  In fact, since both my husband and I have iPhones (yay family plan!) they can each have one which cuts down on the fighting over one device.

So when do I let my children use my phone?  Well, Xander loves to scroll through the pictures when we’re driving in the car.  This prompts conversations such as “wow, that’s Parker at Chuck E. Cheese!  Hey Mama, do you remember when we went to Chuck E. Cheese?  I want to show this picture to my friends!  Oh, and this one!  Oh and this one!”  (and you can pretty much imagine how the conversation goes from there).  I’d like to point out in this instance, my son is not “isolated from interacting with the people around him” but in fact, is actually using the phone as a means to engage me in conversation.

My 1-year-old likes to sit in my lap and listen to Little Red Hen or The Boy Who Cried Wolf read to him on the phone.  He has also learned that when he’s done, he can press the one button on the phone to move onto a new activity, such as baby flash cards or the Wheels on the Bus song.  He is a little too young to manipulate these stories or games on his own, but it provides me with some great cuddle time with my youngest who is generally much, much to busy to pause for cuddling.  Again, my goal is not to isolate, but to entertain and engage.  We are also big fans of using the phone while waiting in the doctor’s office.  After the nurse leaves, and you’re stuck in that room that has nothing but a bed, a chair and a stool with a nervous 1-year-old, what do you do?  I whip out my phone and distract him so he isn’t in tears by the time the doctor arrives, that’s what.

Ms. McJudgerton would be appalled to learn that we also own an iPad (an even larger device with which to isolate children – the horrors!)  So what do the children do with the iPad?  Well, Zach, Xander and I just last night finished reading all 10 chapters of Winnie the Pooh.  Yep that’s right – my 3 year old son sits still to listen to a chapter of Winnie the Pooh every night before bed.  He’s lucky if there is a single illustration on the page and yet he still listens and asks questions about the story which leads me to believe he actually retains at least some of the content.  Yep, it’s awful the way I use technology to isolate my 3-year-old, I’m most definitely destroying his imagination.

But really, none of those examples were technically “in public” – they were in my car or in my home.  The last time my child used a phone in “public” was last Friday night.  Let me set the scene for you: my father-in-law’s and his brother’s birthday.  The whole family is getting together at a steak house to wish them happy birthday.  The restaurant is nice, so I attempt to be overly prepared with lots of snacks and entire bag full of toys the kids haven’t seen in a while.  Unfortunately, due to our large party, the earliest reservation we could get (called early in the week) was 7pm.  The one-year-old usually goes to sleep at 7:30, so this should be interesting.   The week is filled with sleepless nights, runny noses, vomit and tears from all 4 family members.  We’re all exhausted and mostly recovering from various illnesses.  But, we rally and make it to the restaurant.  We sit at 7pm, and order at 7:20 pm.  By 7:30 pm I have been through every toy in the bag.  We have exhausted Parker’s appetite for puffs and yogurt and milk.  He doesn’t want to snuggle.  Every adult in the room has attempted to cuddle, jiggle or walk with him.  Other patrons are staring or glaring and sighing at us, and I’m not quite sure what to do with the poor guy.  Finally, his cousin hands him her iPod touch with a drawing program on it.  Parker and I sit and draw lines until his food arrives.  I would be willing to bet that if Ms. McJudgerton had been sitting at the next table watching us, it would have been far more comfortable for her to watch my son and I draw quietly (he had already pitched the crayons and paper at my head so don’t offer me a low tech solution) than to listen to his ear-piercing screeches for another 20 minutes.

Yeah, I’m one of “those” parents.  I share my technology with my children.  I use it for entertainment and occasionally education and often as a chance to sit and play with my children.  So Judgey McJudgerton can keep her “dumb” phone and be proud of her daughter’s ability to entertain herself (by the way, did I mention that Xander had a 15 minute imaginary conversation between two zipper pulls in the car the other day?  Some days he doesn’t even need props for his imagination…) and I will continue to make use of the technology I have – and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t judge me for it.  Just because I let my kids use my phone doesn’t mean I’m a neglectful parent.

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And the Universe wasn’t done at just breaking the water pump, oh no…  Zach managed to blister his hand on some hot oil while I was outside gathering snow to melt (so we could flush the toilet).

Then when it was his turn to go out and gather snow, Xander forgot to put down the toilet seat after he used it, which we didn’t realize until we heard Parker splashing in it (yuck!)  And of course, we didn’t have any good way to clean up anyone without any water…

Our evening just turned into a series of unfortunate events, culminating in a half dead mouse on our carpet this morning that we couldn’t flush down the toilet with the rest because there wasn’t enough melted snow left, so he sort of floated in a little pee bath while we hurriedly melted more snow to get him to go away.

The good news? We have running water again!  It’s amazing how easy it is to take things like electricity and running water for granted, and how much you rely on those sorts of things.  Between the 4 day power outage and now water failure, it feels like moving out of town moved us back into the 1800′s.

The bad news? “Phase 1″ alone cost us $1,970.00.  At $180/hour those well guys aren’t cheap, and our pump was apparently difficult to get at.  We’re still waiting on a quote for “Phase 2″ and in a matter of hours all of those exciting plans we had for the house (including a nice, new fancy generator to prevent problems like 4 day power outages) fly out of our bank accounts in the blink of an eye.

So welcome to Sara’s pity party – table for one please.  I know someday it’ll get better.  Someday we won’t have something breaking on our house or car every week.  Someday we’ll go a whole day without finding a dead mouse in the trap in our silverware drawer (don’t worry – the silverware is safely stored elsewhere for now).  Someday I won’t find little pockets of seeds stored by mice in my clean laundry baskets or t-shirt drawers (clean laundry that I can’t re-wash yet because there is still too much sediment in my water…).  Someday the Universe will cut us a break.  Someday the stress will go away and we’ll actually be able to enjoy this house that we fell in love with (I love you, but I don’t really like you right now kind of love).

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So, we put our house on the market at the end of the summer.  Much to our surprise, it sold in November.  So, in three weeks we packed up all of our earthly belongings and moved into a rental house for the winter.  We lived out of boxes and desperately missed our carefully collected possessions as we searched for the perfect home for our children.

Despite our realtor’s concerns, we insisted on looking at this house way out in the middle of nowhere.  The town population doesn’t even come close to 100 people.  Despite that, it’s still only 15 minutes from work, and we knew some people with kids the same age just down the street.

We fell in love.  Sure, the house needs some love and some updating, but it’s in pretty good shape, and it’s huge.  It’s got a brook running through the property (perfect for throwing rock into, and getting completely wet and muddy in) and it’s got a Harry Potter closet under the stairs.

So, we bought it.  It took lots of super-human effort, and begging and pleading with numerous local and state officials to get the paperwork completed, but we finally did it.

And we moved.  Good God we moved.  Our beloved (and exhausted) friends all turned out one sunny Saturday in February and packed all of our belongings from a storage unit and the rental house into a U-haul and a few trucks and poured it all into this new (and now not-so-spacious-because-it’s-filled-with-all-our-crap) home.

And then we started to settle in.  We sorted toys and washed clothes.  We rearranged furniture and learned how our house worked.  And then we lost power for 3 days (gotta love living in the sticks…).  And we worried about pipes freezing, and our children became nomadic, shifting from home to home staying warm, fed and occupied while we prayed for the electric company to fix all those downed lines in record time.

During this move and settle period, I knew there were mice in the house.  I had seen evidence of their existence when we first looked at the house.  That first week I could hear them rustling somewhere as I lay in bed, and I actually saw one running around under a couch and behind some boxes.

Now, the mice have gotten used to us.  I actually think they like the company.  We brought in two not-so-neat children who love to leave discarded food on the floor.  We keep the place warmer than they’re used to, and we’ve given them lots and lots of new things to chew through.

They are so comfortable in fact, that they don’t run when they see Zach walk into the basement anymore.  Last night I found mouse poo in our silverware drawer (is there anything in the world ickier? It certainly gave me the heebie jeebies for the night).  So, I spent the evening sanitizing everything I could get my hands on.  The glue traps have been out for three days now, but not a single mouse has fallen for that trick yet (we have smart mice people!)

So, creepy, icky, pooping, scratching, chewing, dirty mice it. is. on.  We paid good money for this house.  We own it.  We aren’t moving (and couldn’t afford to even if we wanted to).  We will not cohabitate with you.  The snap traps are coming in tonight.  Spray foam for every crack and cranny will be added this weekend.  We will continue to unpack boxes and place things in plastic bins where you can’t get them.  We will win because we are bigger, smarter and stronger than you (unless you are Pinky or Brain, in which case, we’re doomed).

If anyone has any good suggestions for a) getting rid of mice; b) keeping them away; or c) cleaning and sanitizing things that clearly have had a mouse visit, I’m all ears (no pun intended)

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Most years I love Christmas time.  I love decorating the house, putting candles in the windows, making cookies with my mother, preparing Christmas cards and sending them to 60+ family, friends and coworkers, selecting and buying presents, wrapping and finally giving presents, cutting down a tree with my family and decorating it, holiday parties, and holiday food and most importantly, spending time with family and friends.  Generally everyone is in a good mood for the entire month.  People are more generous and friendly, everyone smiles and wishes you a Merry Christmas.  Kids are excited and happy, in my little world, Christmas time is a great time of year.

Except this year.  This year it sucks. I haven’t been able to drum up even an ounce of excitement for this huge holiday looming in front of me.  I don’t want to see any Christmas lights on houses because it just mocks the fact that I can’t have any lights in my rental house this year.  The same with decorations.  I don’t have a single Christmas decoration up in my house – not one.  They’re packed away in boxes, buried under mounds of stuff.  I feel like I’m completely failing my kids in the decorating department.  It makes me want to cry whenever I think about it.  We’ve figured out most of what we need to buy for Christmas this year, but we haven’t figured out where we’re going to come up with the cash to pay for them.  And, even when we do finally buy the gifts, the presents under the tree are going to be sparse this year, and even though our kids are too young to notice, Zach and I know that, and want to be able to give them more…

I’m so stressed about money (or lack thereof) and about our house sale/purchase (eventually…) that I’ve mostly stopped sleeping.  Even though my children are finally sleeping well, I’m awake at ridiculous hours of the night fretting and worrying about everything that we’re precariously balancing at the moment.  So not only am I grumpy about Christmas, I’m just tired in general which just makes it harder for me to hide my grumpiness.

I have to miss one of the holiday parties this year – with 2 little kids it’s just too much to chase them around an office party.  I had small hopes that perhaps the party would be at our house, which would have eliminated that difficulty, but it’s not.  So, Zach will go to the party, and I’ll stay home with the boys.  The holiday party for my office is new, different, and I’m not sure what to expect (besides having to come back to work for 2 hours after the party – the day before the holiday break…)

After sick kids and broken vehicles and (someday) closing on our house, I won’t have enough vacation days to take the whole week of Christmas off.  So while everyone else is home and the office is empty, I’ll be working.

I’m going through the motions, but I’m not excited about any of it this year.  I’ve mentioned this a few times, hoping someone might be able to help me find some Christmas spirit, to help me put some real joy back into the season, but I’ve come up empty.  We’re in a strange house that I can’t decorate, and we don’t have any money.  I don’t want to do Christmas.  If we didn’t have kids, I’d beg Zach to just skip it.  But we do have kids, so I’m forcing myself through the motions, but I’m miserable doing it.  I’ve turned into one of those people who hates the holidays, and I hate that about myself.

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If you happen to commute to work with your husband, it’s a good idea to make sure that he hasn’t taken your car keys and his car keys when he leaves for an early 7am meeting.

When attempting to reach said husband, it’s a good idea to make sure you are sending text messages to him and not to your friend (sorry about the early morning, slightly grumpy texts Jenny!)

While waiting to be rescued from your stranded position at home, you should probably insist that your toddler use his stool to go pee or else you’ll end up cleaning your entire bathroom (for the thirteenth time that week).

While attempting to keep urine off your bathroom ceiling, you probably shouldn’t assume the buckle on the changing table will actually restrain your 8-month-old because he’ll be crawling off of it any second.

It’s probably a good idea to wipe your urine soaked hands on something before rescuing said baby.

You’ll want to grab a burp cloth after you get the poopy diaper on the baby changed, because he’s going to start spitting up all over your floor, and if you’re not quick, he’s going to crawl through it and smell like baby vomit all day.  You’ll also want to break out the carpet cleaner because yeah, he’s going to spit up there too.

When your husband finally arrives home, it’s probably a good idea to already have the kids in their shoes and coats and ready to walk out the door and not upstairs in a bedroom with toys everywhere, or he might be annoyed at you for making him leave in the middle of his meeting and then not being ready when he comes to return the keys he stole rescue you.

Just a few friendly tips from me to you so you don’t end up debating whether it would be better to crawl back into bed and wait for tomorrow or keep going because what else could possibly go wrong?

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I think what bothered me most about this post, and this site in general is that I had never realized that there was this whole population of people out there who not only choose to not have children, but are actually offended by people like me who choose to procreate. I can still recall my life before kids, and I don’t ever remember colliding with the kid friendly crowd when I didn’t want to. Aside from being irritated at parents who bring small children to adult movies (a topic which deserves its own rant), I can’t think of a time when a kid inconvenienced my lifestyle before I had my own kids.

I never thought of our society as “child-centric”. I think it’s pretty easy to avoid kids in places like bars, and late movies, grocery stores at the right time of day/week, etc. Even if you don’t want to actively avoid me and the rest of the kid-friendly crowd, I am very conscientious of my children in public – making sure they are not noisy or disruptive in adult situations, making sure they use their manners (well, I haven’t really started the 2-month-old one on manners yet – he still spits up on people without warning…) I guess I don’t like being stereo-typed. Sure, some parents probably do let their kids run wild, but there are at least an equal number of kids and parents who are nice, kind, polite people who do not belong in this category, and do not deserve the disdain this site doles out.

So, the stork spot post in particular, and this website in general really bothered me. What do you think – is this lady right, are the child-centric people encroaching on the child-free people of the world or is she unfairly stereo-typing families?

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