Hide and seek, Mia style

Back in the day, when I was one of those they were talking about when they said "kids can be so cruel," my version of hide and seek with my gullible younger siblings was called "hide-n-no-seek." I wanted to read, and the little twerp (name was applicable to any one of them) wanted to play.
"Fine, twerp- wanna play hide-n-no-seek?"
Little face would light up. "Yeah!"
"K- I'll count, you go hide."
Twenty minutes later, little twerp would be at my side again wondering why the heck I didn't look for them. I'd repeat the name of the game more slowly. Dallin never forgave me- I'm not even in his top friends list on MySpace.

So, I try to be a little nicer to the kids I'm dealing with nowadays, so as to earn the privilege of gracing their top friend space when they grow up. Even though by then it will be a "top hologram space" in their living room, and lifesized 3-D images of their favorite people will be standing in their living room and will start talking and moving when each person is online, and it will be kind of creepy, I still hope to achieve some kind of "top" status.

I have devised a simple method for accomplishing this objective: do the oppostite of everything I did to Dallin. (And Zach thinks the reason I won't paint Mia's fingernails is because I'm trying to get her to stop picking them... ;)

And "Hide-n-no-seek" has again become the game I played in my pre-evil-sister days... just a little glammed up and dumbed down.

Mia requires princess costumes to be worn while playing. (Which reminds me- I've got to change out of my Sunday skirt before I haul the girls to get our propane tank refilled. They're finishing up their raspberry flavored peaches- I'd better type fast.) She also requires: help with her hiding place, "cover me with these cushions!" helping you with yours, at least one giggle from the hider during the search, and two places to be wondered about out loud after the hider has been spotted. If any of these essentials is omitted, correction will be made: "Moooom!.. you have to giggle now!" "Noooo! You can't find me yeeet!!"

She actually got me after this one. I had to take an extended counting trip to the princess room, and when I got out, I had no idea where she was. I almost went upstairs, but I got my courtesy giggle and headed back to the living room.
Where in the?
She had squeezed under the couch. I was quite impressed.
"Wow- Mim! What a great hiding place!"
She giggled as she scooted out. "Thanks!"

Sigh.

Shoulda played with the twerps.

Ahhh

I got a nap today! And I got seven hours of sleep last night! I feel like a human again- no thanks to my hair-brained idea on Sunday.

Someday next year, if all goes as planned, we will have another kid in the house. I'm not pregnant. But next summer will be the last time Zach has any kind of flexibility to his schedule. SO- we're going to need one of our two kid rooms freed up while the newbie screws with our sleep. Which means Mia will transfer to the top bunk, and the twins will share the bottom.

Right now, they all go down pretty easily. The twins kind of babble for up to an hour, but they drift off without any fuss. I thought maybe now would be a good time to get them used to the next bed situation, before they really learn how to party.

Zach took down both cribs, put Mia's bed (the top bunk with the railing) in the twins' room, and put up the bottom bunk in Mia's room. We put a crib mattress on the floor in case one of them attempted to climb over the railing and fell. Bree hadn't taken a nap, because she fell asleep in the car on the way home from church. So when we put them down, Anya was ready to call it a night, but Bree wasn't going to let us leave without a fight.

We went downstairs to wait for the crying to either stop or get worse. It stopped. Hooray- success!

A minute later I heard *scratch scratch* on the baby monitor. Which was on the art table. On the wall opposite the bed. A few steps up, I can see the light on under the door. Bree is up on the table, and Anya is standing in front of the door. Both grin at me and giggle.

We finally got them to sleep- I had to kneel and stroke Bree's face, which was just procrastinating the inevitable. At 1 something in the morning, she realized Mom wasn't there anymore, and started crying again. Which woke up Anya. Who started crying. I went to check on them, and tried to put them back in bed to see if they wouldn't cry it out. They thought climbing out would be more effective. *pound pound* Four little hands on the door. About 2:30 Zach decided the only way to get any sleep would be to put the cribs back up. He got done around 3:00. I fell asleep at about 4:30.

Dumb.

Oh- and last night we were downstairs and heard a thud from Mia's room. She fell out of her new rail-less bed, which is now under the top bunk. I went up to find her sitting in a pile of sheet, (don't let an Italian repeat that out loud) scratching her head looking around. "Did you fall out of bed?" She mumbled "yeah" as I picked her up and stuffed her over next to the wall. This morning she said she had a dream she fell off the couch.

Go figure

Attention grabber pic. I'm shameless. I know half of you will see this in your little thumbnail thingy on the side of your blog page, and I need a lot of feedback on this one. :D

Alright, I'm not deaf, just dubious. I post artwork, like 90% of other cyber moms, because it's fun to show what I've worked on instead of filing it away, or publishing it into a book that will sit on a shelf. And well-meaning friends and family remind me (continually) I could be a productive member of society making money doing it. I agree, there is that ten percent of moms who don't already know how to do it themselves, or who just don't feel like it, and about five percent of those who still would like it done and would pay someone else to. There is a market, even if it's practically non-existant.

I'm going to do a little poll. And, I'd really appreciate a dirt-honest answer, so posting anonymously might be a good idea on this one, if you think it would help you to be honest-er.

What would you personally be willing to pay for a personalized calendar- all 12 months, a cover and end page, holidays marked, family members' pics on their B-days. You would be able to choose which pics went on each page, and the color and theme of each month. Or you could give me a bunch of pics and say, "make it pretty."
Now- putting your personal budget aside- what would you expect the first copy of something like that to cost? If additional copies were $20?




What about a pencil portrait?
You personally would spend ___?
You would expect it to cost___?
Pointless, why would someone spend money on something like that?

I hope my Pay it Forward gals don't mind me using these- I didn't use names!... ;D


And last, but not least. What would it be worth to you to learn how to do a calendar yourself? Photoshop lessons- 60 minutes a week.

Yes, I'm using you. You will not be reimbursed for your time... ;D

Unfit

All because I left the snacks.

Winter. I knew, before we even decided to get pregnant the second time, that last winter was going to be crappy. It seems by adding an unexpected kid we also added another unexpected crappy winter. We're getting desperate. Last week we went to the park when the temp spiked to a balmy 60 degrees, and didn't leave until we couldn't feel our fingers. All weekend we looked forward to the library today. Thank heaven for the library. We got there in plenty of time for me to pick up my reserved books, let Mia play on the computer, and get good seats for the free circus show at 11. In my rush to get there in plenty of time, I left the snacks at home. The snacks! Why did we take them out of the diaper bag in the first place? I would have been better off leaving the diapers!

10:30, the girls start getting cranky. The library vending machine has water bottles. Hmm. If we don't get something to eat, they're not going to make it. Shredded Wheat only lasts three hours, and they ate at 8:00. Another glance at the clock, coats back on, and I pack them back in the stroller. Back to the car, buckle all three in, fold stroller, stick in trunk. Race to McDonald's. Hand them hamburgers to eat as we drive back. I can't believe Mia caught that cheeseburger- awesome.

10:55, Stroller out, one, two, three kids unbuckled, packed back into the stroller. Race back to the library. A man in a top hat and a lady in a clown outfit are standing behind two keyboards, a huge mixer, two amps and million wires. Whew- they haven't started yet! Unbuckle, coats off, while Mr. TopHat tells us some facts about the origin of the circus. Mia goes and finds a seat on the floor (which precise location is only known to me because a friend happened to see her and point her out. Thanks, Breezi- you got my back. ;D) The room is packed, there's nowhere to sit. I figure either the twins will want to sit by Mia and see what's going on, or I can squeeze in that spot of floor I see and pull them onto my lap.

Then TopHat whips out the bagpipes we heard him practicing earlier.

I realized today that if you put their names together, the twins make "Anree." And that's exactly what they were the second those pipes started. Both wanted to be picked up- lap was no good. Yes- I realize you each want your very own Mom. You have no idea how I wish I could clone myself. Or get rid of one of you-we-won't-go-there.

I spot a chair at the back of the room. A little girl is climbing in and out of it onto her Mom's lap. Hmm- and a kind of a path between the sitting people. If for some reason she says no, there's floor room- maybe the twins won't scream once they can see what's going on. There's a lady in a chair right in front of me trying to catch a photo of her kid at the back of the room. I tell her my plan to ask the mom of the kid at the back of the room if I can use the chair. "Is your kid back there? Do you think maybe you'd want that chair instead?" She looks at my whimpering twin still on the ground reaching to be held, "Oh, I can't walk back there, I have a bad back." Haha! Funny. Okay- what did I expect.

I think Anya weighs 35, Bree was 28 at our last appointment months ago. I can't get them all the way to my hips from the floor unless I have a little maneuvering room. Lady in the chair isn't budging. There's no good place to start. Hmm. I can pack the twins back up, which will cause a lot of noise, retrieve Mia, which will cause even more noise, tick everyone off and leave with three screaming orneries, or I can try for that chair.

I couldn't get the twins up high enough. As I picked my way through the "path" I grazed a lady's head with one of the baby boots, and made a very noticeable trek to the back of the room. The mom plopped the kid onto her lap, and we collapsed in the chair. When I thanked her again, she said she was glad- her daughter had refused to give up her seat to another lady earlier. Great, that lady is probably ticked at me, too.

Mia participated and had fun. Bree escaped twice to vigorously rock a sleeping baby in it's car seat, (there's no way that mom wasn't ticked,) but other than that she clapped and laughed and had a good time.

Anya whined. Ten minutes left, and she wanted to be held, but it was only okay if I was standing. Okay, except here's the thing, baby. I have a bad back, too! If you want me to be able to walk out of here, I'm gonna need to sit down now. It's just the way it is. No- she needs me standing, sorry.

Mia heard she was going to get a present at the end, so pulling her out ten minutes early would not only be kind of mean, it would probably tick everybody off when she started screaming bloody murder.

Pack up the twins. They whine unless we're moving. Strolling the babies around in the foyer waiting for the end. Why do I leave the house? We are unfit for public. We make ourselves and everyone around us anree.

Mia pipes up in the car on the way home. "Mom- that was a fun circus! I loved that circus! I got a necklace! I got a chocolate! There was a clown there!"

Fine. That's why I do it. The price is just always so high- even when its free! But it could be worse.

I don't care what all the country songs say. I'm not going to miss this. Not this winter, anyway. Bring on spring, baby, bring it on.