Party of Five:
Lil Ole Me (40)
Manly Man (40)
JDub (7)
Dubya (2)
Sandy Beach (4.5 months)
4:15 am I have been lightly snoozing a bit and decide to check the time. Ooo! It's past 4am, my self-imposed limit. I refuse to let myself get out of bed before 4. But yay, I can go ahead and start enjoying those quiet early morning moments. I try to be stealth about it, so as not to wake anyone else. But getting a 4.5 month-old puppy leashed and moved downstairs results in multiple bonks, bangs, thumps, and a couple squeaky puppy yawns. Sandy and I begin making it downstairs. As we pass JW's room, I notice his door is wide open: evidence he was up sleep-wandering in the night. This has happened off and on so much that I don't even get creeped out any more. Sandy and I keep moving downstairs, potty in the frigid early morning air, get a coffee, and assume my new perch ... the floor. Gone are the days of being an old lady curled up in a chair. With this whole dog thing, I now sip coffee on the family room floor, while playing tug and petting a mouthy lil furball who I want to squish. A few minutes of playtime with her soon leads to a curled up snoring fur-angel smashed against my leg. I get my computer and re-read my last DITL post for inspiration while I sip coffee. I chuckle and also tear up with gratitude for my life.
5:15 am Thump Thump Thump Thump. Ugh, and cue: eye roll. JDub is pounding himself around upstairs like a herd of elephants, which annoys me to no end. I want my quiet time to myself down here, and he has been breaking the 6am wake-up rule a lot lately. I also don't want him waking anyone else. So I jump up from my old lady perch on the floor and run up there. Sandy clumisly follows, and we all meet on the stairs. I shoo J back to his room, and he is not happy about it. I try to re-tuck him, which is totally futile, but I don't care. It's too early. He explains that he woke up at 4:00 and then 4:01 and then 4:02 and on and on and on. As he describes his sleep woes, he has a tear welled up in his eye. My selfish hope of quiet morning time fades as I realize this baby is full of dread. Dread of exactly what I desire ... sitting in a dark quiet room ... alone ... waiting for the minutes to tick by until 6:00. His dread makes my heart is a little heavy. But not heavy enough to let him get up. See you at 6:00 sweetheart.
5:50 am Thump Thump Thump Thump. Omg, now I'm really annoyed. Sandy is peacefully snoozing next to me on the floor, her paws flickering through dreams. I have begun writing this post. Life is nice and peaceful. And here comes this 7 year-old elephant to trample the peace. JDub bounces into the peace, ipad in hand, all smiles. It's not 6:00 yet, J. What are you doing down here? I know, but it's 5:50. Exactly. That's not 6:00. Well, it's close enough. Well, I don't want you waking anyone by going back upstairs. So you can stay down here. But this will be the last time. This has been a problem for a while, and we need to get back on track with staying in bed until 6:00. It's not healthy to be getting up so early, says the woman who happily bounced out of bed at 4:15. Whatever. He snuggles up with a blanket. Sandy stretches. And I resume my blog. There are worse things in life.
6:15 am I hear distant cries and pleas from Dubya. Hiiiiiiiii Mama, hiiiiiii Mama, I ready get out Mama, hiiiiiii Mama! This peaceful quiet is officially over. Time for chaos! I retrieve the toddler, who is all red-cheeked and smashy-haired. I love the smell of his morning breath as he tucks his head under my chin. He's so peshus. We head downstairs, and the two boys immediately grab screens. I feel somewhat guilty about it because "it's not the healthy thing to do." But I also love the peace and quiet. I think our parents' generation experienced the same struggle. Theirs wasn't a hand-held screen guilt; theirs was a 200 lb box on the floor called a television guilt. But they faced the same issue. Constantly telling us gen-xers to back up from the tv, turn off the tv, it'll ruin your eyes! But how many 40 year-olds are wandering the earth with eyes ruined from 1980s tvs? Yes, self, good justification. Screen away, boys.
6:30 am The screens have already lost their luster. And the shovel trucks are now being driven around the kitchen with pinto beans being scooped by the excavator. It's loud and chaotic, but I do feel better about them getting away from the screens. Somewhere in here, William requests pancakes "with ears," there are quite a few "Sandy, drop it!" scoldings, and W begins a bean negotiation, where he begs and pleads to move the beans to the carpet. Mama wins.
7:15 am B has emerged from his fatherly slumber. He makes elk sausages. More chaos from the boys. At one point, W exclaims "don't kill me!" Seconds later, B mutters "oh shit" under his breath. Oh, so wholesome. Good lord.
7:45 am Alex has arrived for the final day of landscaping. I am so excited about this I could squeal. I run upstairs to grab shoes and then spend some time doing a final walk-through with him. I am 100% delighted with how everything is turning out, and I have visions of having fun in this yard for many many years. I also scoop dog poop while I'm out there.
8:00 am B requests a quick hair trim. We go upstairs for a speedy Edward Scissorhands. I've been cutting his hair since 2004. Same haircut every time. I think it's high time I expand my repertoire of haircut styles, but this one just works. We tidy up, and I head back downstairs to a pinto bean massacre. There are hundreds of beans. Everywhere. Sandy is eating them. The boys are yelling and laughing. Just pure chaos. Sandy grabs a pen and runs off in the midst of all this, and we have to trap her to remove the pen. Thank God we don't have an ink explosion.
8:15 am JDub and Brian leave for the last basketball practice of the year. They are both so handsome. I don't know how I got so lucky. I clean up the kitchen and bean carnage. W plays and talks to himself and is cute as ever. At one point, he is on the couch, and with this sweetest sounding voice I've ever heard, along with his head tilted to the side, he asks "sit with me, Mama?" Oh be still, my heart! How could I not sit with this angel? We snuggle on the couch and chit chat about things I forgot to document. There's also tickling, laughing, and lots of "I want a do dat again, Mama!"
9:15 am There's a knock on the door, and a landscape guy asks me to move the van out of the driveway. I want to do it quickly and independently, without W even noticing. But he immediately insists "I come wid you, Mama." I grumble a bit internally, but grab my keys and throw him on my hip. We go to the van, and he sits on my lap. He is so delighted and proud to be "driving." It brings me back to my own childhood, sitting on my dad's lap "driving" around the neighborhood. Such sweet memories. And William is loving it so much, I decide to do a quick spin around the next street before we park. He is so happy. I am glad this happened instead of my original desire to be independent. How could I miss out on this? Of course, I ran out the door without my phone, so I have no pictures of it. But man, oh man, was that a sweet moment that I will cherish.
9:50 am J and B are home now. J runs through the door, beaming from ear to ear. That was suuuuuuuuper fun! Oh how awesome, sweetheart! I'm glad you loved it! Yeah, and I'm never doing it again! What? Why not? No, I'm never going back to that place! I fish and dig, trying to get the details of how he's come to this stance, but my efforts are unsuccessful. I suspect this is due to him being completely unreasonable and making no sense. But he is home, and that homebody sure loves to be home.
10:00 am W and I head outside for some digging time. He is in his element, and it reminds me of Jonathan at that age. Everything is about trucks, shovels, and dirt. I love that. Sandy is also digging and loving life. But she is getting a bit rambunctious. I don't want her getting in the yard crew's way. So I decide to leash her up and go for a walk. B and J come out to supervise W's dig site. Sandy and I hit the pavement. The weather could not be more perfect on this glorious January day, and the SoCa foliage is so vibrant. Seems to be in the low 70s with clear skies. I love getting back into my walking habit after a ridiculously long hiatus. We cruise the neighborhood and both love it. At one point, we get an adrenaline rush when a fat old black lab with a white beard comes charging out of a garage off leash. The two dogs squeal with excitement while twirling around me. I am getting tangled in the leash but do not want to let go. And to make matters more exciting/stressful, out charges an old fat yellow lab. The three dogs are all twirling around me, and I really do not like it. I don't know what to do. Pick her up? Scream? Keep walking? Suddenly a middle aged man comes stomping out, yelling quite sternly at the dogs. It takes a minute or two to get the old labs under control, but they do eventually obey and slowly stroll back to their garage, their heads hanging low with disappointment that puppy playtime is over. The neighbor and I introduce ourselves and chat for a good bit before Sandy and I continue our walk.
11:15 am Sandy and I return home and wander around the back yard. The boys are contently playing and throwing random stuff. I eventually head inside to fix lunch. We are running low on groceries, which is actually my favorite time to cook. Time to get creative! I am proud of my creation: brussel sprout lo mein. The boys turn up their noses at the sprouts but devour the noodles. Oh well.
12:00 pm Time for happy nappy! He attempts to snuggle the other Wyld boys and get out of happy nappy, but I peel him away and head to his room. He is so cute with his questions about "pancake book." Where's syrup, Mama? Where's sticky, Mama? Where's tree house, Mama? We eventually make it through. Get tucked in. Mama Song. Tiger Song. Shark Song. Knuckles. High Fives. Make sure my light cames off, Mama? And check on me, Mama? Yes, sweetheart. Mama loves you. Night night.
12:30 pm I finally start getting myself cleaned up for the day. Sandy snoozes in the bathroom with me. J is in and out of the bathroom. Experimenting with floss. Shooting nerf guns. Bullets whiz past me. B decides to run a couple errands during nap time. I experiment with matte foundation, which I definitely do not like as much as my old trusty serum foundation. But whatever. I'm not about to re-do anything. Somewhere in there, Ang and I text a bit and decide to celebrate Mother's Day together at the Wilson Creek brunch. I can taste the goodness already!
1:30 pm Head downstairs to clean up the kitchen. Again. I start packing up our bags and whatnot with eager anticipation to be at the Pastores' this afternoon. We should be leaving soon. An instacart delivery arrives, thank you Brian. There is hustle bustle chaos. I get JDub started on some math homework, which he finds thrilling. We are outside wrapping things up with Alex and marveling at the yard. I could not be more delighted with the landscaping. I adore it! Hustle bustle, hustle bustle. Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Hustle to get the boys ready. Fix hairs. Clean clothes. Hustle.
3:00 pm We finally leave, about 30 minutes later than hoped. But we are all excited and ready to see these wonderful friends. Traffic is decent. B and I catch up on life while we drive. I snap a few photos of the cutest boys I've ever seen. About 20 minutes in, we notice it's pretty quiet. Look back and discover J is sound asleep. With the seatbelt smashed across his face. How? How could anyone sleep like that? Wow. But he is so cute. Seven year-old boy cuteness is truly adorable.
3:30 pm We arrive and get ready for a great afternoon. Walking up to their home, we see the boys outside. They are so polite and cute and introduce us to their neighbor friend. There are hugs and greetings with Frank and Jessica, and we all dive into catch up conversations. Through the afternoon in their beautiful home, there is excellent food, free flowing wine, boys running wild, virtual reality boxing, s'mores on the patio, William hanging on my side and refusing to let Jessica come anywhere near him, which is ridiculously funny at this point, and just all-around wonderful times with great friends. We dream about planning a camping trip together and catch up on a little bit of everything. William eats his weight in tri tip and is dumbfounded when it's all gone. Despite a few minor injuries, the boys are happy and energetic.
8:00 pm We eventually get some cranky cues from W and decide to start packing things up. We start the goodbye process and there are hugs and thank yous and comments about all the fun that was had. And just as we are opening the front door to make our exit, W declares "my tummy hurts, Mama." Huh, that's odd. He doesn't say that very often. And yaaaaaaaakkkk. Clear liquid puke splats out all.over.their.beautiful.floor. Oh.Good.Lord. I am disgusted and embarrassed. And confused. Where did that come from? But before I can even fully realize what has just ensued, Jessica is already spraying and wiping up the slime. Omg no no, let me do that! But she moves quick, and it's already clean. Oh jeez. I am so sorry! I cannot believe that just happened. But let's go. Before anything else happens. More hugs and thank yous and all the goodbyes. We pile in the car, and B and I cross our fingers we don't have puke in the car.
8:30 pm We make it back home after a fairly peaceful and uneventful drive. B has clearly had a lot to drink with his buddy, Frank. While I'm driving, he has finalized the plans for a shopping spree for me tomorrow, a little project he began plotting earlier in the day. I am excited. We arrive home and head straight to the yard to check out the lighting. It is magnificent. A beautiful and elegant ambiance. I love it. B snaps some pictures. We are just about to walk through the back door, when W declares his tummy hurts again. Yaaaaakkkkk. More clear liquid throw up. Pure chaos ensues. Sandy is trying to eat it. B is trying to spray it clean with a hose. He sprays Sandy instead. William is crying. I am trying to soothe W, but it's too loud and hectic. Anne has arrived just earlier than us, and she joins the party outside. There are quick greetings and explanations about what's happening. She wisely backs up. There are quick clothing strips and goodnights all around. She holds down the fort with the canine while the rest of us head upstairs. I love having her live so close now.
9:00 pm The boys are certainly tired, as are we. The bedtime routine goes smoothly and quickly, thank Jesus in heaven. Both get tucked in, but I am very nervous about this vomit thing. What caused it? Please, Lord, do not let this be the flu that plagues us all. I brace myself for a long night of vomit delight. I head back downstairs to chat with Anne and Brian. But Brian is nowhere to be found. Anne and I chit chat a bit and are excited to shop together tomorrow. It is seriously awesome that she lives nearby. Just wish I had snapped a pic.
9:30 pm I am feeling it in the eyes. Anne, Sandy, and I head upstairs for the night. Goodnights and see you in the mornings. Brian is located via audio, as he is snoring like a lumberjack. No goodnights or love yous or prayers tonight. Whatever. I wash my face and get Sandy settled. One final check on the boys, and prayers for anti-vomit. And I climb into bed. Within seconds, I am out. No reminiscing about the day. No gratitude about this great life. No punch in the feels. Just out. The end.
5:00 am. I am up for the day, grateful for a solid sleep with no puke. I leave B peacefully snoozing while I check on the boys and potty the dog. Coffee. Blog write-up. It is fun to go back through the details of a typical Saturday. It was a good day and nice to document. I am thankful for this life. Especially these Wyld Boys. All three of them. How did I get so lucky? I don't know, but I love them. And I look forward to another fun weekend day, which will involve shopping. Until next time.
