It looked like something out of a horror movie. One whole side of her face was covered in red. It splattered down her neck and blanketed her black and white checkered blouse. I’ll never forget the look on her face. It was a mixture of shock and dismay, followed by a round of unexpected giggles.
I breathed a sigh of relief at her kind reaction, hastily apologized, and then turned to face the perpetrator of this heinous act. My three and a half-year old looked up at me, eyes as big as saucers, the ketchup packet still crumpled under his hand. Continue reading
To say it was a bad morning would be an enormous understatement. It was one of those ‘can I please go back to bed and hide under the comforter until tomorrow,’ kind of mornings. My daughter, who is now 14 months-old, had been up multiple times in the night for the third night in a row! In her defense, she had just gotten over a second round of a stomach illness. But honestly, if you aren’t throwing up, why are you waking me up?!
As if my daughter’s late night shenanigans weren’t enough, my middle son decided that he needed to join me in bed at 5:45am. I have tried hard to establish a “we are not getting out of bed until 7:00 am” rule at my home. So far, I am the only person who routinely adheres to said rule. Continue reading
The abdominal cramping started less than an hour into the trip home from my girl’s weekend away. I figured I was experiencing indigestion from the exceedingly rich and creamy entrée I had devoured at lunch. As we continued down the road, however, I quickly realized this was more than just a stomach ache. Sweat formed on my brow as my abdominal muscles continued to contract with increasing intensity. Then the nausea set in.
“Can you pull over?”
I stumbled out of the truck and dropped to my knees. I could feel the rough roadside gravel digging into my jeans as I hunched over and prepared to expel everything from my insides. Instead, I curled into the fetal position as another wave of pain coursed through my body. Continue reading
School is in full swing and a new chapter has begun in the Engelhart story. My oldest son started all day, every-day Kindergarten a couple of weeks ago. His little brother, who is three, started preschool last week. And I try not to do a happy dance every time I wave goodbye. I can usually contain the impulse, until they are out of view!
It’s not that I don’t love my children. I really and truly do with all of my heart! But this mama can use a reprieve from the chaos that seems to be my every-day existence. And for two days a week, for three solid hours, it’s just me and my one year-old daughter. It’s amazing how peaceful life can feel for a change. Continue reading
On any given day of the week, my sons are running around the house battling invisible dragons, having epic sword fights, and apprehending pretend bad guys with their toy guns blazing. Yes, I actually let my boys play with plastic guns and run with sticks. So far, no one has lost an eye or been impaled.
On a rare (or not so rare) occasion one, or both, of my little rug-rats will get smacked on the hand or the arm with whatever they are currently using as a weapon. This usually results in a bout of tears, angry words exchanged, and time-outs administered. Then, before I can blink, they are up and at it again, laughing and giggling and back to vanquishing their imaginary enemies once again. Continue reading
This morning my six-year-old son looked at me with big innocent blue eyes, a box of cereal in his hand, and with a voice as sweet as honey, asked me, “Mom, can you serve me at the table?”
I was a little surprised to say the least. Not because he wanted me to bring him his breakfast at the table. This isn’t an out of the ordinary event at our house. It wasn’t even the cordial manner in which he asked, although that did catch me a little off guard.
I think it was his choice of words: “Serve me.” Continue reading
My husband and I got into a minor tiff last night as we briefly discussed his upcoming work party. It started when I asked him if a particular family would be there. The reason I asked, was because they are good friends of ours and I was looking forward to hanging out with them. But I also wanted to know, and expressed out loud, that I didn’t really want to go to the party if they were not coming.
Before you think I’m one of “those” people… you know, the kind who pick and choose where they go based on who will be there, let me explain. I am an extrovert by nature. I generally like meeting new people. In fact, if there is a party to attend, I am usually the one bugging my husband to go, not the other way around. Continue reading
It’s six o’ clock in the morning and my boys are awake. They “sneak” into my bedroom and try to crawl into bed with me. I sleepily protest and send them back to their room. I can hear them jumping off their beds and wrestling each other to the floor as I doze back to sleep for a few minutes, only to be forced out of bed by the hungry cries of my five month old daughter.
I try to rub the sleep out of my eyes as my daughter persistently nurses. It had been another “cat-nap” night as I drowsily attended to a son’s nightmare induced sobs, followed soon after by a late night feeding for baby. Continue reading
I got into my first real car accident this week, and unfortunately, it was definitely my fault. It happened on my routine drive to drop my oldest son off at preschool. Preschool mornings are always stressful at my house, and this particular morning was shaping up to be something special. Continue reading