Cat vs Tooth Fairy

Emma lost a tooth late last night.

It was assisted slightly by my darling husband, who has a tendency to assist children in losing loose teeth without even knowing that he is helping.  What a guy.

Anywhoo, she was in bed and called out, "My tooth!  I lost a tooth!!"  She was so excited, and we went in to cheer with her, both of us showing our excitement and joy while wracking our brains to figure out if we had a dollar in our wallets.

After the celebration and subsequent necessary showing of the tooth to the brothers, she headed off to bed and we found a dollar, rolled it up an waited for her to fall asleep.

However, Emma sleeps with her cat.  And we could hear her in her room, talking to her cat.  "If I wake up and there's no tooth, and no dollar, then I know you ate the Tooth Fairy.  That's not OK.  Teddy, do not eat the Tooth Fairy, understand?!?"

OK, anyone who knows us knows that we couldn't just let that one go.

And hopefully, the cat learned his lesson.  I mean, really.  You don't ever take on Fairy Tale creatures, that's just common sense.

Here's the sweet girl, who apparently slept through the whole battle.  When she woke and figured out what had happened, she saw the cat fur and Fairy Dust on her sheets next to her pillow and exclaimed, "Oh, this must be where it all started!"

 

On her floor, not under her pillow was a half-hazard tooth tin, a slightly ripped dollar, and a toothbrush.  The Tooth Fairy must have been so tired after the fight with the cat that she couldn't bring everything back up onto the bed.  I can't blame her, that was probably exhausting.

Luckily the Tooth Fairy left a note so we know she was OK.  The Tooth Fairy has really small handwriting, it must be because she is so small.  The note reads, "Wow, that's one tough cat!  Don't worry, I got away and I'm OK.  Sorry about his fur.  It will grow back.  Love, Tooth Fairy"  The dollar was mangled and covered in Fairy Dust, and the tin held some Fairy Dust and cat fur.

Emma's new toothbrush, broken open and also covered in Fairy Dust and cat fur.  Apparently, she beat him off with it.  At least she's a resourceful little Fairy!

And the cat, looking mildly ticked off, missing a couple of hunks of fur, and slightly glitter-y between the eyes.

Don't ask.

Unfortunately, we will never know exactly what happened between Teddy and the Tooth Fairy, as there were no witnesses.  I hope the Tooth Fairy comes back again, it seems like it was quite the battle.  And I'm not sure the cat will ever be the same.

As for Emma, she seems curious and slightly baffled.  I am interested in hearing her reaction when she comes home from school and has had some time to think it over.  She cuddled the cat this morning, offering her sympathy for what he went through last night while gently scolding him for attacking the Tooth Fairy.   He was not amused.

I just hope he doesn't try to get revenge some night when I am sleeping.  I might want to start sleeping with some Fairy Dust....

Of Christmas Past

Christmas is truly one of my very favorite days. I love it. I love the family, the memories, the joy and the love.

In 2009, I blogged about our Christmas, thinking it would be the last of it's kind. However, 2010 was not wrought with the pain that we expected. Christmas 2010 looked close to the same as the year before, and it was awesome.

We spent Christmas Eve with my side of our family in Seattle. The kids did great and Emma only caught her hair on fire a little bit. Then we attended the Christmas Eve candlelight service at the church I grew up in, which was a tradition in my life up until I moved up north and had a family of my own. My children behaved, and Grant fell asleep in my mom's lap, allowing me the privilege and honor of serving my mother communion as she sat with my sleeping child laying across her. The look on Emma's face in the candlelight as we all sang 'silent night' brought me to tears, it was beautiful.

These are the things that make Christmas.

The next day, we did the usual morning events and visiting Marty's mom and family, then off for a visit with Marty's Grandpa, who had cancer and wasn't expected to live much longer.  The kids sang 'happy birthday, Jesus' for him, and he loved it.  He asked them all their bible verses and was thrilled when Emma told him that she had accepted Jesus into her heart.  It was a short visit, but very powerful.

It was the last time we saw him alive.

These are the things I want to remember, the memories I want to hold onto.  These are treasures to store in the heart; not toys or presents or stockings or Santa, but Jesus.

This Christmas will look different.  2011 was hard on our circle of friends and family that we hold close, many that we love will be spending their first Christmas in heaven this year.  That is fabulous for them, but painful for us.  It hurts to miss those that we love, whether they have moved on to Heaven or are still here, just not quite themselves.

It looks different.

I will hold these memories close to my heart, and I will make new memories this year.  At this time next year, I don't know how different it will look again.  So I will take mental pictures and real pictures and spend time with those that I love.  I will store these treasures in my heart to pull out again later and revisit the memories.  This Christmas, I will try to love like Jesus.

As I remind my kids often, it's His birthday, not theirs.  It's not about what is under the tree, it's about Who came to this world to die on a tree to save us.  We are so very blessed to celebrate the birth of our Savior with family and friends, and we are so very thankful that He wants to share His birthday with us. 

How will you spend your Christmas?

Of Babies and Big Boy Beds

Yesterday morning at 6:14 am, my sister-in-law (and amazing boss) gave birth to her first child, my newest nephew. Welcome to the world, Justin Roy Parsons!

Let me tell you, he is a cutie. I went to the hospital for a quick visit and seeing him there, wrapped up in his mama's arms made my poor, retired uterus do a flip-flop. I'd like to think that it was because I love the newborn stage, where the sweet lil babe is so loving and dependent on Mom, there is no talking back or whining yet, and they don't run away.  To be honest, though, my uterus was just protesting any ideas that might have come into my head at that moment.  We are done having children of our own.  But bring on the nieces and nephews!

The kids were excited, they were not able to visit the hospital, but marveled over pictures of the sweet babe.  We were a bit concerned about Drew's reaction, he has been the baby of the family for close to three years now, and loves his baby status. 

"Drew, thank you for doing your chores.  You are such a big boy!"  is usually met with a defiant, "No, I's not a big boy, I's a BABY!"

Yup.  We were worried about how he would feel, being replaced.

So I showed the kids the first texted picture as they woke up in the morning, and asked them, "do you know who this baby is?"  They studied the picture, faces pressed in close to each other and right up to the phone, and agreed that they didn't know.  "It's your new cousin Justin!  Auntie Amy had her baby this morning!"  They all squealed with glee, bouncing up and down, then returning to the phone to study him again. 

Emma: "Awww!" 

Grant: "He's so cute!" 

Drew: "He's a baby, just like ME!"

Hoo, boy.

We had quite a few talks throughout the day.  Talks about what babies do and what they can't do, like talking and walking and running and rolling.  What to expect from their new cousin, "Do you think you can play rough with him, or should you be very gentle?"  Ben: "Gentle, because he's just a little baby and we don't want to break him!"   Talks about different baby things, like volume and tickling.  I want them to be prepared to be the best cousins they can be.

Throughout the course of the day, Drew seemed to get it.  He wasn't a baby, he was a big boy.  And he wanted to do big boy things.  "Mommy, we get home, I wear big boy undies?"  "When we get home, you want to put on your big boy undies and go peepee in the potty?"  "Yeah!"

Well, OK then.

--Fast forward to after dinner.--

The rest of the evening was chaos.  There was something in the air that made small children scream, hit, throw things and tattle.  Drew spend quite a bit of time in time-out, throwing the biggest fit I have seen heard in a very long time.  Yup, even bigger than that annoying kid at the mall that you wish his parents would just take home because you are going deaf, and you are two stores down.  It was a huge, massive, sobbing, screaming fit that just wouldn't end.

Finally, I just scooped my screaming, fit throwing boy up, changed him into jammies, and put him to bed. 

As many of you know, Drew sleeps in Emma's old crib (which was also Grant's old crib) with a crib tent that we bought him a while back to keep him in the crib.  The crib tent was awesome, and kept our little Houdini contained, which made for two happier parents, since we weren't constantly listening with one ear to see if we could hear him dancing on the crib rail again.  He got a concussion at nineteen months by climbing out of the crib, but we didn't want to move him to a toddler bed because he shares the room with his twin brothers, and the room isn't padded on all walls or completely empty.  However, the kids liked to climb in the crib tent and play, and a couple of weeks ago Ben broke the zipper on the crib tent so it didn't close anymore.  We solved that problem by turning the crib around so the opening was up against the wall, we just had to slide the crib whenever we got him in or out of it.  After four kids, you get creative.

Now, here's the thing.  Remember a couple of years ago when all those cribs got recalled and we were all supposed to get retro-fit kits to fix them?  Yeah.  Well, I got on the website of the manufacturer of our crib, and couldn't ever get the kit.  I entered the model number and the site said it wasn't a valid number.  Our crib was still in good shape, it was our fourth and final child, and he was over a year old and not at risk of the suffocation danger that prompted the whole recall in the first place, so I just didn't worry about it.  Over time, the crib started to weaken and I could see why it was recalled, so I tried again and still was told that it wasn't a valid number.  I could have just contacted customer service, but I never did.  Either I chose not to or I got distracted as something important was peed on, I don't know.  Either way, the crib was weakening, I didn't have the retrofit kit, and sliding the crib out from the wall all the time wasn't helping matters.

So I did what any caring, rule-following mother caring, loving mother of four kids would do.  I grabbed a bundle of zip-ties and zip-tied the rail to the support bars myself.  Problem solved!

Right?

Well....

Last night, after the joys of new babies and massive fits, I put my screaming, fit throwing boy to bed.  I don't know how he managed it (but let's be honest here, I never know how he manages to do the things he does) but he broke the zip ties and the whole side fell off the crib, sending it and my almost three year old to the ground.  Luckily, he was in the crib tent which managed to slow his descent and break the fall.  He wasn't hurt (thank the Lord) but the crib was broken.

Broken crib+broken crib tent+child who makes the nice poison control people say things like, "wow, that's impressive"=not a good situation.

I tried to fix the crib.  I thought I would just get a bunch of screws and screw the thing in place, it had zero value so who cares how it looks if it's just going to last another little while, right? But the screws weren't long enough to hold it strongly enough.

So, once again, I got creative.

I grabbed the duct tape.  I duct taped that sucker up, shook it a bit and got it nice and sturdy.  I was impressed.  I stood back and admired my work, and then it hit me. I was actually going to place my almost three year old in a crib that was held together with duct tape and had broken strands of zip-tie dangling from one corner?  Was I competing for some sort of Jeff Foxworthy special?  Was I an idiot?

And most importantly, if this fails, how on earth will I explain that at the ER?!?

Imaginary scenarios stared running through my head.  The doctor asked, "How did your child break his arm?"  and I have to answer, "well, his crib broke because I never got the mandatory retrofit kit for it, I just used zip ties instead.  Then the zip ties broke and he fell out, but I just duct taped it together again, I mean, really, duct tape is definitely designed to keep our furniture together to keep our kids safe!  Seriously, I had no idea that this wouldn't work."

And then, in my mind, CPS came to take my kids away and I was sent to a nice relaxing vacation in the psych ward.

I stared at the crib and sighed.  The crib is designed to be a toddler bed by removing the side rail that happened to fall off.  "Hey, buddy," I asked Drew, "how would you like to sleep in a big boy bed tonight?"

He was over the moon excited.  So we talked.  We talked about our expectations, that if he was going to be a big boy, he would have to stay in his bed and not get out to bug his brothers.

And he actually listened.

So proud of his new big-boy status that was created by the morning birth of his new baby cousin, Baby Jack Jack laid down his title of Baby and became a big boy last night. 

This morning, I was in bed when he came into my room for his morning snuggle.  As he opened my door, I realized that we had hit a "last" yesterday.  Yesterday morning was the last time I would hear, "Mommy!  I'm awake now, I wanna get up now!" in a fun singsong voice.

The baby stage is ending.

And today, my newly crowned Big Boy is wearing Spiderman undies, because Big Boys are potty trained, and he wants to be potty trained, too.

Calm down, uterus.  We've got other people's babies to hold now.

Not Me! Monday!

Welcome to Not Me! Monday!   Truly one of my favorite blog posts, Not Me! Monday! is fabulous.  She's a smart one, that MckMama.

During my computer time this morning, I clicked on my Blogger dashboard and saw that I was down a follower.  I don't like to lose followers, but I can't say that I blame them because although there are truly funny blog posts that happen here, they really don't do you all any good if they never get out of my head and onto the computer.  So I made the decision to stop right here and blog for you.

You're welcome.


I did NOT make up imaginary situations in my head where the lost follower just gave up Internet for the sake of becoming Amish, so drawn by a baggie of friendship bread that someone gave them at the office that they have decided through many hours of mashing the bag that that way of life was truly their calling, and in the process they deleted their Blogger account to pursue a simpler life filled with bonnets, aprons, and churning butter.  NOPE, I would NOT convince myself of that rather than admitting that the lost follower probably just consciously said something like, 'Tiff never blogs anymore.  Delete!' 

a-HEM.
 


I am NOT supposed to be fixing my bathroom sink right now while I sit and blog for you in the hopes that someone else doesn't stop following become Amish.  NOPE, our bathroom sink is NOT so clogged that water never drains, and we have NOT had standing water in that sink for a few days straight.  We do NOT have to use the other bathroom for everything lest we try to rinse out toothbrushes and inadvertently immerse them in the nasty water that has been sitting there for days.  You know, like when you use a public bathroom and when you wipe, you mis-judge the bum-to-water distance and end up dragging your knuckles into public-toilet water, making you jump and throw up in your mouth a little; even though the toilets in Target are probably ten times cleaner than your own sadly neglected toilet at home, since Target toilets get cleaned daily and you have three boys that pee everywhere.

Anywhoo.  What in the world was I talking about?


Oh, yeah.  So on my to do list today is to fix the sink and clean out the freezer.  We have a side of beef coming tomorrow and I want it to be all pretty and organized.


Speaking of, we took the entire family after church on Sunday to make a Costco run, and wandered aimlessly (which my husband just LOVES, he does NOT get impatient at Costco AT ALL) and loaded up on groceries. 


We passed by the CARS 2 display, and I managed to sneak a copy into the cart without any of the four highly observant children noticing.  I did NOT accidentally sneak it past my own husband, however.  We are ALWAYS on the same page and I would NEVER think that he would totally get that "I'm going to go look at these Wheat Thins over here!"  actually means "Distract them so I can get CARS 2 without them seeing!"   And then when I say, "everyone look at Daddy and bat your eyelashes at him and he will give you a sample of that snack over there,"  I do NOT think that he understands that it is code for "Now I am going to slip this movie into the cart between the meatballs and the bottled water!"


NOPE.  I do NOT forget, quite often, that my husband cannot read my mind.


OK, in case you were wondering what a side of beef had to do with the Costco run, I did NOT burst into tears yesterday as I completely re-arranged the pantry to make room for all the new purchases.  I did NOT feel completely overwhelmed at the vast amount of food we had for our family as I remembered bringing five pounds of flour and five pounds of cornmeal to people in the slums of Kenya, and how incredibly grateful they were for those seemingly small, insignificant things.  I looked at my pantry and thought of how many meals we could make for the starving children in Kenya and I cried.  We are so very blessed, and I never want to forget it.



OK, moving on.


I did NOT once again decide to vacuum the computer, which led to vacuuming the cords under the desk, which eventually led to re-arranging the entire living room.  NOPE, I do NOT do things on a whim like that.  And I certainly do NOT do these whimsy things while my husband is at work, it would make much more sense to have a big strong man around when pushing furniture.  I most certainly do NOT do stuff like this on purpose so that I can do it my way and not have to stop while he says, "you know, what if we tried it like this?" to which I would say something like, "hey, this was my idea, why do you think you get an opinion?!?  It's not like you live here or somet... oh, wait."


Marriage advice from me:  If you want something done your way, without any other opinions, wait till he's at work.  I know, I should write a marriage book. 




p.s.:  My hubby loved the living room update.  And if he hadn't, I wouldn't have minded at all if he wanted to move it all back the way it was.  He would have had to do all the moving himself, however, but I wouldn't have minded at all!


p.p.s.:  I love the Amish.  And bonnets.  And butter.  Kinda like how I fully respect homeschooling and the Duggers; it's a great way of life, just not for me.


p.p.p.s.:  The living room update has actually led to a bit of a technical error in out house, where we actually have to disconnect the home phone to open the pantry.  That's on the to-do-list for tomorrow, but since I put off today's list to blog for you all it might not be fixed till 2014.  It happens.

He's Actually Human After All

Drew.  Oh, Drew.

My fourth and final child, the two year old spitfire who loves life and finds joy (and chaos) at every turn.  The one who seems to defy all rules, including the laws of gravity and every child-proofing device ever made.

I never thought I'd find something that could stop him.  From his first concussion at nineteen months to the fact that he can do a twenty five piece puzzle with all the pieces flipped over so he can't see the picture, he is not normal.  I have never met a two year old that can do what this kid can do.

For a while, I thought he was unstoppable.

Until now.

It was last week.  I was in the kitchen, prepping and freezing 50 pounds of chicken when I heard from the living room. "Mommy, help!  I's stuck!"  Being the attentive, responsive, caring mother I am, I replied, "Well, get un-stuck then!"

It didn't work.  After some pretty serious wailing, I washed the raw chicken off my hands and went to investigate what exactly it was that caused this child, this unusually strong and independent child, to be stuck and unable to move.

I saw it.  And then I laughed.

Mr. Crazy had been climbing in the windowsill again.  He knows he is not supposed to, he knows that he gets in trouble every time, but he also knows that when Mommy is covered in raw chicken, it's gonna take a lot to get her to come check things out.

We had decorated for Halloween.

My dear unstoppable child was stuck in a tangled mess of polyester spiderweb, long strings of white web hooked around the latches of his firefighter jacket.  He looked at me, his eyes huge and scared, wrapped up in web that still hung from the top of the windowsill.

Apparently, Halloween decorations aren't just for decorating.  And spider webs are extremely strong and catch-y, even the fake kind.  

I'mma gonna have to remember that, and file that information away for future use.

So if you ever come over and find fake spiderwebs hanging from my windows in July, don't judge me, m'kay?

Random Ramblings About Cars And Fences

Man, it's hard to get back into he swing of blogging. I feel like I need something big to happen in order to blog about it, but I never was that way before. What is it about taking a break that totally throws off your bloggy groove? I have no idea.

So let's see, what's been going on? Life is crazy, as usual, and we are fully into the swing of fall. Although I did take the boys to pre-school this morning and found myself driving to Emma's school instead. That's what I get for driving while having an imaginary conversation with someone from the PTO at the elementary school, I end up going to the elementary school.

Yup. I'm brilliant.

I got my first speeding ticket in a very long time this weekend. That was fun. I was mostly disappointed because I finally had the money to go get the bookcase I have been wanting forever and ever and instead I get to support our county sheriff's office. And the cop had no interest in having a conversation so I could try and talk my way out of the ticket, I didn't stand a chance. But what was more frustrating was the fact that almost immediately after I called my husband to tell him, he facebooked this:

Hey Tiff Stauffer, c'mon down, you are the next contestant on "Here's Your Ticket!" At least you are supporting the struggling state budget, right??!? $144, but then again, I do get to tease you for a while. Might just be worth it!!

Thanks, babe.  Because I totally wanted all of our friends and family to find out.  You are so helpful.

Of course, I took the high road again (because I'm such a good person) and didn't respond back about the fact that a couple of years ago, he got a ticket for speeding through a school zone while on a cell phone and got pulled over right in front of his sister's house as his niece and nephew were getting off the bus.  And that he didn't have proof of insurance in his car, and gave the officer his business card instead, hoping that the fact that he is an insurance agent would work.

Nope, I didn't bring that up at all.

a-HEM.

Luckily, I didn't even have to think about letting everyone in Facebook-land know that he backed his car into the fence last week, after my saying several times, "if you park there, you will back into the fence someday," because he was nice enough to bring it up first.

Maybe he is a good guy after all.

Love you, honey!

I Killed Woody Woodpecker

Yup, it's true. Although I still maintain that Woody just tried to take on my van and lost.

I think we have all had those experiences, you know where a bird flies right in front of your car and you swear there is no way you couldn't have not hit it.  (Don'tcha love the double-negative?)  Lemme tell ya, from my experience today, you'd know.

Because it comes with a very jolting thump. And if you're super-special, you might also get a bit of bird guts flying up and landing on your windshield.

Guess what?!?  I'm super-special!!

So I was on the phone with my hubby at the time. The birdie came swooping in from the side, and then there was the whole thump-and-guts thing. I might have screamed. Or gasped. I don't know.

All I know is I started yelling to my husband what had happened (because as we all know, yelling information over the phone is much more effective than simply speaking information when you are startled) to which he responded in the sweetest, most understanding way- by accusing me of being a bird-killer. What do you do if your darling, adorable, least-sensitive-man-in-the-world husband responds to your upset-ed-ness by calling you a murderer?

Well, I don't know what you would do. But I took the high road. I was the grown up. I was mature in my response, allowing no morsel of revenge to take place.

Or, I pulled over and took a picture of the bird, still embedded in the front of my van, and texted it to him.

You will have to guess which one of these things I chose to do.

Oh, and by the way, removing a dead birdie who is still warm from it's position half-way under your hood is a very sad thing. And you might not realize that your kids are watching the whole thing.  And you might feel bad about just putting it in the gas station garbage can, but you don't dare bring it into the van to bring it home for a proper burial.

Because good heavens, do you know what would happen if Drew got a hold of a dead bird?!?

After a quick Google search I identified it as a Pacific Northwest hairy woodpecker.   And that made me sad, because I love woodpeckers.

Anywhoo, I did the grown-up mature thing again and answered the kids' questions about the bird.  And then I did the brilliant slightly dysfunctional move of using this as a life lesson in why we don't cross the street without looking, or we might get hit by a car and die and leave nothing but a severed wing in the road as the only piece of evidence that your life has ended in such a horrible, tragic way.

OK, I didn't go that far.  But I did remind them of the bird the next day when Drew tried to run straight into the parking lot without looking. 

Killing Woody the Woodpecker with your car - the life lesson that keeps on giving.