The following conversation took place while tucking Murray in last night.
Murray: Mama, are there houses in heaven?
Me: Yes, Murray, God has a place for all of His children, because He loves us all SO much.
Murray: Grandma Kathy tickled my feet.
Me: She did? When?
Murray: When I was sleeping one day. I giggled.
Murray: I just wanted to know if there were blankets in heaven.
Me: Yep, there sure is! God has lots of fluffy blankets just for you!
Murray: Will He have my white blanket?
Murray: Mama, are there animals in heaven?
Me: You bet, Mur! There are lots and lots of animals.
Murray: How come?
Me: Because God loves animals and people, just the same. In God's eyes, we're all perfect.
He created everything on earth with lots and lots of love.
Murray: What happens when you get to heaven? Are there games? Are there toys? What about
houses? Will our house be there? Can we play in heaven? Do people still love us in
heaven?
Me: Yes, Murray. Heaven is a much better place that anything here on Earth. And, God has a
Huge Kingdom for all of us to live together. Isn't that great?
Murray: What about songs? Are there songs in heaven?
Me: Yes, in heaven, everyone sings with joy, because they love God and heaven so much.
I relied on my Catholic upbringing and blind faith to get through this conversation. More devout Catholics than I may have chosen to answer his questions differently, and honestly, my Catholicism is a work in progress.
I love that he's curious. I just wish I had the perfect answers. Like I said, I'm a work in progress.
Good thing he's going to St. Joseph's in the fall. I might have to join him.
Showing posts with label mommyhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mommyhood. Show all posts
Questions, Questions, Questions
I often find myself completely dumbfounded at the questions Murray asks. Here are some of the latest. Note that sometimes I pull answers out of my ear.
Q: How do brakes stop the wheeuhs?
A: There's a machine in the engine so when you press the brake pedal, the machine stops the wheels.
Q: How does the frost get on the trees and the windows?
A: It gets cold out, and then...well, Jack Frost visits.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's winter.
Q: How come you yike to do sewing?
A: Because I like it.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's relaxing.
Q: What's rewaxing?
A: When you rest.
Q: Why does Rudy have a taiuh?
A: Because God gave him a tail.
Q: How are some kids bigger than me?
A: Because they were born before you.
Q: How?
A: Because God said so.
Q: How yong is it to the cities?
A: Four hours.
Q: How yong is that?
A: Ummm...a long time.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's far away.
Q: How does the vaccuum cweaner suck up stuff?
A: Well, there's a mechanism that - never mind. Go ask your Dad.
Feel free to leave some suggestions for answers in the comment section. I could use some help here.
Q: How do brakes stop the wheeuhs?
A: There's a machine in the engine so when you press the brake pedal, the machine stops the wheels.
Q: How does the frost get on the trees and the windows?
A: It gets cold out, and then...well, Jack Frost visits.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's winter.
Q: How come you yike to do sewing?
A: Because I like it.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's relaxing.
Q: What's rewaxing?
A: When you rest.
Q: Why does Rudy have a taiuh?
A: Because God gave him a tail.
Q: How are some kids bigger than me?
A: Because they were born before you.
Q: How?
A: Because God said so.
Q: How yong is it to the cities?
A: Four hours.
Q: How yong is that?
A: Ummm...a long time.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's far away.
Q: How does the vaccuum cweaner suck up stuff?
A: Well, there's a mechanism that - never mind. Go ask your Dad.
Feel free to leave some suggestions for answers in the comment section. I could use some help here.
Four Is Not Fun At Four A.M.
NOTE: Edited for the hog/hug mistake. I'm sure there are more typos, but please, overlook them. I'm certainly not a winner at writing. I just love it.
Most of the time, I'm the parent with the most patience. Having patience also makes me the parent most likely to give in. We try to raise him with a firm hand, and I feel like we're doing a pretty good job.
Sometimes.
It's time for Mama to take back control.
Most of the time, I'm the parent with the most patience. Having patience also makes me the parent most likely to give in. We try to raise him with a firm hand, and I feel like we're doing a pretty good job.
Sometimes.
No one told me that child rearing a four year old would prove more challenging than a fussy newborn, or a curious toddler, or an inquisitive three year old. The minute Murray turned four is the minute he turned naughty. Exasperatingly naughty. Whiny, demanding, bossy, demanding, whiny...I think you get the picture. Oh., and this 'silly' phase is for the birds. C'mon Mur, you're cute enough the way it is, no need to put on your goofy hat.
I've spent a lot of time on the phone with G.K. for parenting advice.
Sometimes, I find it easier to give in to just "one more snack" instead of listening to wails of "but, I'm SO hungry, Mom!" Then there are the crocodile tears that he seems to be able to turn on at the drop of a hat. The kid could win an Oscar. I think he's the next Dakota Fanning. Hmmm....maybe I should look into that?
This morning, at 4:00 a.m., I woke to said child yelling from his room. "Mom, Dad! I'm awake! Can I sleep in your room?" Craig replies that yes, he may, but on his crib mattress on the floor and not in our bed.
Murray skips across the hall (who skips at 4:00 a.m.?) blanket in hand and lies down. Thirty seconds later: "Mom, I'm cowwed (cold)!" We groggily explained that if he wants to sleep in our room, he would have to bring in his pillows and more bedding by himself. BIG sigh from Murray. He stomps - so much for the skipping - to his room after a litany of complaints and returns with a flimsy blanket.
"Mom, I need my wittwah (little) bear and a hithow (pillow)." Again, he needs to get those himself, I explain. "WAAAA!!! BUT I WANT YOU TO GET IT!"
This is where I give in. FINE. Now I'm acting like the four year old; stomping into his room to retrieve the darn bear and a pillow. I finally get back into bed and I hear a whine, "Mom, you forgot my Pooh, and my dowphin, and my car, and my bobber, and moose."
You've GOT to be kidding me, I'm thinking. I haul myself out of my nice warm bed, and off I go again. I grabbed pretty much everything in his entire room and dumped it on the floor next to him. I snuggle him back in, then myself, and think, finally, some sleep.
"Mom, he whispers. Can I have a drink of wadder?" So, I grab my water mug, hand it to him, he drinks, and I hiss, "I don't want to hear another word from you until morning." Craig rolls over, looks at me and says, "Marie, that was kind of mean."
So, I burst into tears, apologize to Murray profusely, give him a big hug, and try to explain that Mama is just really tired and we all need some sleep.
I felt terrible. And guilty. And terrible. Soon, all three males in the house are snoring, while I was wide awake. I sighed, grabbed my book and settled on the couch for a good read.
At seven, when the house began to stir, Murray buried his head under the covers, asked me to turn the light off, and demanded the he sleep longer. Go figure.
It's time for Mama to take back control.
Driving Mr. Murray
Riding in the car with Murray is always an adventure in conversation. You just never know what will pop out of his mouth. For example, today's 7-minute trip went something like this:
"Mom, you picked me up early? Why? Mom, why is it cloudy? It's not too windy for me. Hey Mom! I sure love Rudy. Mom, who's in that car next to us? Mom, I made a snowman puppet today. Mom, the cops are nice, right? Mom? I know how many more sleeps until we go to the cities with dad. Mommy, why didn't I get a snack at Linsay's house today? Mom, are you driving the speed limit? Mom, Gordon is the fastest engine on Sodor! Mom, I didn't tell the secret to anyone! Oh, Mom? Will you help me set up my sticky trains when we get home?" Mom, why do you love me? Mom, what are we having for dinner? Mom, guess what? Well...I forgot. Mom, how did I eat all the pudding? I know, let's have homemade mac & cheese for supper! Okay, Mom? Will you make me that please? Mom, I didn't share my Hero because my other friends have their own trains."
Who needs talk radio when you have a Murray?
Let's Be Honest - Parenting Faux Pas
Have you ever had that parenting moment when you lost your cool? I don't mean physically, of course. I mean, that moment when you lost your patience and yelled at your child; words you wish you could take back?
I have to admit, I'm guilty.
We were on night six of Murray either a) refusing to go to sleep or b) climbing into our bed in the middle of the night. We were sleep deprived and our kidneys were aching from being kicked by a four year old all night.
So much for our "no sleeping in our bed" policy. At 3 a.m., we just don't have the patience to fight it out.
Anyway.
Early one morning (very early, think 2 a.m.), I had moved Murray's mattress twice, carried ancient Nala down the stairs to go outside, carried her back up the stairs, and put Rudy out and back in. At last, I thought I would finally have a few precious hours of sleep. But, as I was finally drifting off, I heard: "Mama, I don't want to sleep here."
Oh, good grief.
I wanted to scream, "Go the blankity blank blank to sleep!" (oh, I love you Samuel L. Jackson), but I restrained myself. Instead, I muttered, "If you don't go to bed RIGHT NOW, I will call Santa and ask him not to come here on Christmas!"
Thankfully, Murray didn't hear me, but still, I really hated myself at that moment. I am the absolute meanest Mommy in the universe.
After that, I didn't sleep either.
I have to admit, I'm guilty.
We were on night six of Murray either a) refusing to go to sleep or b) climbing into our bed in the middle of the night. We were sleep deprived and our kidneys were aching from being kicked by a four year old all night.
So much for our "no sleeping in our bed" policy. At 3 a.m., we just don't have the patience to fight it out.
Anyway.
Early one morning (very early, think 2 a.m.), I had moved Murray's mattress twice, carried ancient Nala down the stairs to go outside, carried her back up the stairs, and put Rudy out and back in. At last, I thought I would finally have a few precious hours of sleep. But, as I was finally drifting off, I heard: "Mama, I don't want to sleep here."
Oh, good grief.
I wanted to scream, "Go the blankity blank blank to sleep!" (oh, I love you Samuel L. Jackson), but I restrained myself. Instead, I muttered, "If you don't go to bed RIGHT NOW, I will call Santa and ask him not to come here on Christmas!"
Thankfully, Murray didn't hear me, but still, I really hated myself at that moment. I am the absolute meanest Mommy in the universe.
After that, I didn't sleep either.
A Few Things
If you haven't noticed, I've been experimenting with background, font, and layouts with my blog. I'm getting ready for my big debut on my own domain. It's more complicated than I thought it would be...but the IT experts assured me that it would be worth it. You can still find me here until I figure all of this out.
On another note, thank you so very much to those of you who have donated items to St. Gianna's maternity home. I know how much your gifts will be appreciated. I will be accepting donations until December 15th, and will ship donations boxes on December 16. Hopefully, we can touch a whole lot of kids and mommies who so desperately need help. Still needed are bathrobes (for the expectant mothers), aluminum foil, baggies, cleaning supplies, toilet paper, stamps, and gift cards (for groceries, supplies, etc). Please consider helping these local women and children. You can read more about St. Gianna's here.
Murray and I had our monthly 'date day' today. Our special time together always includes breakfast out, a bit of shopping, lots of game playing, movies, books, puzzles, hot chocolate, popcorn and tons of snuggles. He exhausts me, but it's so worth it. These days are my favorite...I will cherish them forever. I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that as much as I love these days, I still look forward to nap time. Which I'm off to now. Because after that, it's time to play in the snow.
Yawn.
On another note, thank you so very much to those of you who have donated items to St. Gianna's maternity home. I know how much your gifts will be appreciated. I will be accepting donations until December 15th, and will ship donations boxes on December 16. Hopefully, we can touch a whole lot of kids and mommies who so desperately need help. Still needed are bathrobes (for the expectant mothers), aluminum foil, baggies, cleaning supplies, toilet paper, stamps, and gift cards (for groceries, supplies, etc). Please consider helping these local women and children. You can read more about St. Gianna's here.
Murray and I had our monthly 'date day' today. Our special time together always includes breakfast out, a bit of shopping, lots of game playing, movies, books, puzzles, hot chocolate, popcorn and tons of snuggles. He exhausts me, but it's so worth it. These days are my favorite...I will cherish them forever. I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that as much as I love these days, I still look forward to nap time. Which I'm off to now. Because after that, it's time to play in the snow.
Yawn.
Four Years Old
Note: I purposely did not show the faces of Murray's party guests, so as not to exploit children who aren't my own. :)
Also, following is the addendum to this post. I apologize for the delay.
When you were three, you loved to snuggle up with me and whisper secrets in my ear.
Not that you're four, you think it's great fun to give wet willies instead of whispering how much you love me.
When you were three, you loved to take a bath.
Now that you're four, you think baths are for babies and you prefer showers.
When you were three, Curious George made you laugh.
Now that you're four, you think tooting and smelly feet are hysterical. When you pass gass, you say, "Excuse me, a duck flew by." At least you say excuse me.
When you were three, we could answer your questions (kind of).
Now that you're four, you have us scratching our heads, searching for an answer that will suit you.
When you were three, you learned to count.
Now that you're four, you can do simple math. Yesterday you did 4-2=2 all by yourself. You are just like your Dad; you certainly didn't get the mathematical/analytical gene from me.
When you were three, you slept in your own room.
Not that you're four, you insist on sleeping on the floor in our room. You are so not sleeping in our bed. Unless you're sick.
When you were three, you weren't quite as independent.
Now that you're four, you play on your own more than you play with your Dad and me.
When you were three, your manners were impeccable.
Now that you're four, your're bossy and need to be reminded of good manners.
But, now that you're four, your Dad and I still think you are awesome. We love you, and always will.
But since your're four now, could you please remember to flush the toilet?
Happy 4th Birthday, Murray!
Also, following is the addendum to this post. I apologize for the delay.
When you were three, you loved to snuggle up with me and whisper secrets in my ear.
Not that you're four, you think it's great fun to give wet willies instead of whispering how much you love me.
When you were three, you loved to take a bath.
Now that you're four, you think baths are for babies and you prefer showers.
When you were three, Curious George made you laugh.
Now that you're four, you think tooting and smelly feet are hysterical. When you pass gass, you say, "Excuse me, a duck flew by." At least you say excuse me.
When you were three, we could answer your questions (kind of).
Now that you're four, you have us scratching our heads, searching for an answer that will suit you.
When you were three, you learned to count.
Now that you're four, you can do simple math. Yesterday you did 4-2=2 all by yourself. You are just like your Dad; you certainly didn't get the mathematical/analytical gene from me.
When you were three, you slept in your own room.
Not that you're four, you insist on sleeping on the floor in our room. You are so not sleeping in our bed. Unless you're sick.
When you were three, you weren't quite as independent.
Now that you're four, you play on your own more than you play with your Dad and me.
When you were three, your manners were impeccable.
Now that you're four, your're bossy and need to be reminded of good manners.
But, now that you're four, your Dad and I still think you are awesome. We love you, and always will.
But since your're four now, could you please remember to flush the toilet?
Happy 4th Birthday, Murray!
Pony rides - introducing Izzy and Sari (Izzy is the pony)
Cake
Battery Operated cars
Photo credit: Troy (a.k.a. J.P. #2)
Special thanks to our friends and family who spent the afternoon with us. Also, thanks to Dakota Carriage Company for bringing sweet Izzy to our home.
I Wasn't Ready For This
Note: I had to keep editing this post due to Murray's antics.
I wasn't ready for the "TALK."
It finally happened. The day I was dreading.
Thank goodness I remembered the "birds and bees" discussion that my Mom had with me when I was four.
I was excited to tell Murray that my Dad's Gordon Setter, Madelyn, had her puppies tonight. This news brought on a slew of questions from little guy.
"How do the puppies get in Maddie's tummy?"
"How do they get out of her tummy?"
"But, MOM, how did they get in there?"
"How did I get in you to be born?"
Oh good grief. I thought I could explain that God works miracles, and that Murray would accept this as a perfect answer.
Not so much.
So I launched into an explanation about how there are seeds and eggs, and they meet each other, and then a baby grows.
Wouldn't you think that this explanation would be satisfying to an almost-four year old? I thought that it would.
It wasn't. Not at all.
Insert DH snorting here, trying not to laugh. We're trying to be serious because body parts are normal.
Murray said, "But how do the seeds and the eggs meet? Okay, now I'm trying to hide my own laughter.
So DH says, "Well, it's like a puzzle."
Huh? Again, good grief.
"Well, I said, when a Mom and a Dad love each other and are husband and wife, they share the eggs and the seeds to make a baby, and it grows in the Mom's tummy."
"But how does it get out?"
HELP HERE!!!!!! (Now DH is really snorting and laughing hysterically and I'm completely baffled).
"Well, it comes out of the Mom's vagina and the doctor helps."
"But, MOM, that's NOT what I was talking about. I mean, HOW DOES THE SEED GET TO THE EGGS?" (Insert Craig giggling again and me throwing my hands in the air).
"Because God said so."
It's Craig's turn next.
I wasn't ready for the "TALK."
It finally happened. The day I was dreading.
Thank goodness I remembered the "birds and bees" discussion that my Mom had with me when I was four.
I was excited to tell Murray that my Dad's Gordon Setter, Madelyn, had her puppies tonight. This news brought on a slew of questions from little guy.
"How do the puppies get in Maddie's tummy?"
"How do they get out of her tummy?"
"But, MOM, how did they get in there?"
"How did I get in you to be born?"
Oh good grief. I thought I could explain that God works miracles, and that Murray would accept this as a perfect answer.
Not so much.
So I launched into an explanation about how there are seeds and eggs, and they meet each other, and then a baby grows.
Wouldn't you think that this explanation would be satisfying to an almost-four year old? I thought that it would.
It wasn't. Not at all.
Insert DH snorting here, trying not to laugh. We're trying to be serious because body parts are normal.
Murray said, "But how do the seeds and the eggs meet? Okay, now I'm trying to hide my own laughter.
So DH says, "Well, it's like a puzzle."
Huh? Again, good grief.
"Well, I said, when a Mom and a Dad love each other and are husband and wife, they share the eggs and the seeds to make a baby, and it grows in the Mom's tummy."
"But how does it get out?"
HELP HERE!!!!!! (Now DH is really snorting and laughing hysterically and I'm completely baffled).
"Well, it comes out of the Mom's vagina and the doctor helps."
"But, MOM, that's NOT what I was talking about. I mean, HOW DOES THE SEED GET TO THE EGGS?" (Insert Craig giggling again and me throwing my hands in the air).
"Because God said so."
It's Craig's turn next.
The Latest
Note: Edited. Please excuse the puncuation. I'm still "yearning".
It's that time again, when I post some of my favorite conversations and "Murrayisms" that our dear boy has blessed us with.
Someday, I hope he'll get a kick out of these posts. Or maybe, this will completely humiliate him and that will lead him to never having friends, and never finding his one true love, and then he'll have a complex and it will be all my fault.
Anyway. That's not going to happen for another 30 years, at least.
Overheard at bed time: "Dad, are you wearing underwear?" "Yes, Murray, I am. Why?" Craig replies. "Because wearing underwear makes you healthy and strong and so we should always wear them."
"Mama, how did the frog get in your froat?" I tend to forget that he takes everything literally.
"Mom, I'm yearning!" Learning, yes, yearning, no. And we should probably work on those "L" sounds.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit." Whoops, that would be my fault. Could be worse, I guess.
While playing hide and seek: "Mama, I'm going to take my shoes off so that I can hide in your bed." Where, oh where, could he be?
"Mama, I have a good idea! Let's go to Target and get a disco ball, they show rainbows! Good idea, right, mama?" What the heck? When questioned, he claimed that he heard about the disco ball on Curious George.
While cooking: "Mom, I'm taking five."" Where did that come from?
"Hey Mom! Whet's go outside and pway. We could walk around the bwock, right?" Sure we can. Let's keep working on those "L's".
"How can you get mad at this face?" Thanks, dear cousin Kevin, for that one. He uses this phrase every time he gets in trouble and it's impossible not to laugh.
-MM
It's that time again, when I post some of my favorite conversations and "Murrayisms" that our dear boy has blessed us with.
Someday, I hope he'll get a kick out of these posts. Or maybe, this will completely humiliate him and that will lead him to never having friends, and never finding his one true love, and then he'll have a complex and it will be all my fault.
Anyway. That's not going to happen for another 30 years, at least.
Overheard at bed time: "Dad, are you wearing underwear?" "Yes, Murray, I am. Why?" Craig replies. "Because wearing underwear makes you healthy and strong and so we should always wear them."
"Mama, how did the frog get in your froat?" I tend to forget that he takes everything literally.
"Mom, I'm yearning!" Learning, yes, yearning, no. And we should probably work on those "L" sounds.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit." Whoops, that would be my fault. Could be worse, I guess.
While playing hide and seek: "Mama, I'm going to take my shoes off so that I can hide in your bed." Where, oh where, could he be?
"Mama, I have a good idea! Let's go to Target and get a disco ball, they show rainbows! Good idea, right, mama?" What the heck? When questioned, he claimed that he heard about the disco ball on Curious George.
While cooking: "Mom, I'm taking five."" Where did that come from?
"Hey Mom! Whet's go outside and pway. We could walk around the bwock, right?" Sure we can. Let's keep working on those "L's".
"How can you get mad at this face?" Thanks, dear cousin Kevin, for that one. He uses this phrase every time he gets in trouble and it's impossible not to laugh.
-MM
2 Kool 4 Skool
Note: I've edited this about thirty times, so please, keep in mind that if you find any grammatical or spelling mistakes, well, it is what it is -nothing new. I should put this disclaimer on every post. :)
You're probably tired of reading about my back-to-school ventures, but since today was the first day of class, I couldn't resist just one more post on the subject (at least for a while).
I have been so excited for this new chapter in my life.
Until yesterday.
I was quietly reading the Sunday paper, when out of the blue, cold fear washed over me. I ended up in a doozie of a panic, moaning, "What am I thinking?" Since my Mom isn't around for me to whine at, I did the next best thing; I called my Grandma.
As soon as I heard her voice, I promptly burst into tears. I gave her my best "oh-poor me-I'll never get this-how will I manage-my family will suffer-I will be the biggest, oldest dork in class-and I'll fail miserably" speech. She gently but firmly reminded me that I'm already a step ahead of the college game and pointed out the advantages that I have over so many others. "One day at a time", she advised. "When you've kayaked too far and think you can't make it back home, just remember, one paddle at a time. You'll get there." "Savor each day and when you have bad days (and you will), focus on the end result and what you want out of this". Such sound advice - I wish I could bottle it.
After my talk with Grandma, I felt much better. But then, those ominous hours of dark rolled around, and I found myself sleepless; so much so that I was awake most of the night imagining worst-case scenarios while I attempted to persuade my brain to take a break and rest.
I wrestled with sleep all night. Craig didn't have to wake me up this morning because I was already on the couch, scaring myself silly. When he came out of the bedroom, bleary-eyed, at 6:30 a.m. and said, "It's time to get ready for school.", I wanted to reply, " No s***, Sherlock, I've been been up all night scared out of my mind." But that wouldn't have been nice, so I bit my tongue and wearily headed for the shower.
By the time we were ready to leave the house, I thought I was going to throw up. I was shaking and my legs felt like rubber. I was early for my 8:30 a.m. class, so I sat in Craig's office trembling, attempting to drink coffee without spilling it. I reminded myself how ridiculous it was to be so scared, but sometimes anxiety isn't a reasonable force to reckon with. Craig must have noticed the fear on my face, because he offered to walk me to class (I know, how sweet is that?). On the way over, he reassured me that I would be just fine and that he would help me in as many ways that he could. The guy has big shoulders (I have an amazing support system). Good thing he has a degree in math and is brilliant (although, him tutoring me has the potential to cause serious marriage trouble). As I write this, he's reading my math book with more enthusiasm than a raccoon raiding a cooler.
I arrived at my first class and waited in the hallway because there were already students in the classroom. A lady at the front of the room was talking to students that were seated, so I assumed that the class prior to mine wasn't finished. I soon discovered that she, too, was an O.T.A. (older than average) and just as scared as I. I think I'll make her my new best friend.
The rest of the day went fairly smoothly, despite that I had a math (sigh) quiz on the first day. It should have gone something like this:
a: Marie is not the oldest person in her math class.
b: Marie is definitely the oldest person in her other three classes.
c: Who cares?
d: Marie needs to buy stock in erasers.
d: None of the above.
e: All of the above.
Answer: E
Write this down - there will be a test.
-MM
P.S. Murray has been saying things like, "when I get 31, can I come to your college?" And, "Mom, I'm off to school to do my homework!" (while running around with my backpack) I hope this is an encouraging sign for the future.
You're probably tired of reading about my back-to-school ventures, but since today was the first day of class, I couldn't resist just one more post on the subject (at least for a while).
I have been so excited for this new chapter in my life.
Until yesterday.
I was quietly reading the Sunday paper, when out of the blue, cold fear washed over me. I ended up in a doozie of a panic, moaning, "What am I thinking?" Since my Mom isn't around for me to whine at, I did the next best thing; I called my Grandma.
As soon as I heard her voice, I promptly burst into tears. I gave her my best "oh-poor me-I'll never get this-how will I manage-my family will suffer-I will be the biggest, oldest dork in class-and I'll fail miserably" speech. She gently but firmly reminded me that I'm already a step ahead of the college game and pointed out the advantages that I have over so many others. "One day at a time", she advised. "When you've kayaked too far and think you can't make it back home, just remember, one paddle at a time. You'll get there." "Savor each day and when you have bad days (and you will), focus on the end result and what you want out of this". Such sound advice - I wish I could bottle it.
After my talk with Grandma, I felt much better. But then, those ominous hours of dark rolled around, and I found myself sleepless; so much so that I was awake most of the night imagining worst-case scenarios while I attempted to persuade my brain to take a break and rest.
I wrestled with sleep all night. Craig didn't have to wake me up this morning because I was already on the couch, scaring myself silly. When he came out of the bedroom, bleary-eyed, at 6:30 a.m. and said, "It's time to get ready for school.", I wanted to reply, " No s***, Sherlock, I've been been up all night scared out of my mind." But that wouldn't have been nice, so I bit my tongue and wearily headed for the shower.
By the time we were ready to leave the house, I thought I was going to throw up. I was shaking and my legs felt like rubber. I was early for my 8:30 a.m. class, so I sat in Craig's office trembling, attempting to drink coffee without spilling it. I reminded myself how ridiculous it was to be so scared, but sometimes anxiety isn't a reasonable force to reckon with. Craig must have noticed the fear on my face, because he offered to walk me to class (I know, how sweet is that?). On the way over, he reassured me that I would be just fine and that he would help me in as many ways that he could. The guy has big shoulders (I have an amazing support system). Good thing he has a degree in math and is brilliant (although, him tutoring me has the potential to cause serious marriage trouble). As I write this, he's reading my math book with more enthusiasm than a raccoon raiding a cooler.
I arrived at my first class and waited in the hallway because there were already students in the classroom. A lady at the front of the room was talking to students that were seated, so I assumed that the class prior to mine wasn't finished. I soon discovered that she, too, was an O.T.A. (older than average) and just as scared as I. I think I'll make her my new best friend.
The rest of the day went fairly smoothly, despite that I had a math (sigh) quiz on the first day. It should have gone something like this:
a: Marie is not the oldest person in her math class.
b: Marie is definitely the oldest person in her other three classes.
c: Who cares?
d: Marie needs to buy stock in erasers.
d: None of the above.
e: All of the above.
Answer: E
Write this down - there will be a test.
-MM
P.S. Murray has been saying things like, "when I get 31, can I come to your college?" And, "Mom, I'm off to school to do my homework!" (while running around with my backpack) I hope this is an encouraging sign for the future.
For Posterity: Conversations With Murray
Since my camera refuses to sync with my computer and I'm feeling the need to record some things again, I'm posting more Murrayisms. Here we go:
Murray: Where did we get that? (referring to a dresser)
Me: From Grandma Kathy (clearly I meant our storage unit that houses her things)
Murray: Did she drop it?
Murray: Mama, you're SO BEAUTIFUL (I'm not making this up and I may have already blogged about this but it's my favorite)
Murray: Mom, could I have my own? (while sharing popcorn)
Me: Yes, I'll get you a bowl.
Murray: No, I mean stop eating it, please. (so much for sharing)
Murray: Please show me what time it is. (while looking at a clock)
Me: Well, this is the big hand and that means hours, and this is the little hand and that means minutes, and each number stand for five minutes, and then you count by fives so the number one means it's five after the hour and the number two means it's ten after the hour... (insert Charlie Brown's teacher)
Murray: Great, Mom, but what time are we going to Grandma Mary's house?
Craig: Murray, have a good day.
Murray: Dad, have fun at work and have a GREAT DAY. (agreed)
Murray: Dad, when are we going out west? (to see Grandpa Doug)
Craig: Not sure, but probably in a few weeks.
Murray: How many sleeps is that?
Murray: Mom, they won't let you work anymore because they can't give you money? (right on, son)
Murray: I love my Rudy and Nala and Grandma Mary and Grandpa Dennis and Grandpa Doug and Grandma Kathy in heaven and Maggie and Grandma Kate and Grandpa Jack and...well, I forgot who else.
Me: Well, all of those people love you too.
Murray: Do they?
Of course we do, dear boy. You are a gem.
P.S. Grandpa Doug is on his way.
-MM
Murray: Where did we get that? (referring to a dresser)
Me: From Grandma Kathy (clearly I meant our storage unit that houses her things)
Murray: Did she drop it?
Murray: Mama, you're SO BEAUTIFUL (I'm not making this up and I may have already blogged about this but it's my favorite)
Murray: Mom, could I have my own? (while sharing popcorn)
Me: Yes, I'll get you a bowl.
Murray: No, I mean stop eating it, please. (so much for sharing)
Murray: Please show me what time it is. (while looking at a clock)
Me: Well, this is the big hand and that means hours, and this is the little hand and that means minutes, and each number stand for five minutes, and then you count by fives so the number one means it's five after the hour and the number two means it's ten after the hour... (insert Charlie Brown's teacher)
Murray: Great, Mom, but what time are we going to Grandma Mary's house?
Craig: Murray, have a good day.
Murray: Dad, have fun at work and have a GREAT DAY. (agreed)
Murray: Dad, when are we going out west? (to see Grandpa Doug)
Craig: Not sure, but probably in a few weeks.
Murray: How many sleeps is that?
Murray: Mom, they won't let you work anymore because they can't give you money? (right on, son)
Murray: I love my Rudy and Nala and Grandma Mary and Grandpa Dennis and Grandpa Doug and Grandma Kathy in heaven and Maggie and Grandma Kate and Grandpa Jack and...well, I forgot who else.
Me: Well, all of those people love you too.
Murray: Do they?
Of course we do, dear boy. You are a gem.
P.S. Grandpa Doug is on his way.
-MM
Grocery Store Helpful Hints
Recently I've taken on the chore of grocery shopping. What was always Craig's task has now become mine - by choice - after all, why should he put in a long day and then come home only to run to Hornbacher's? It certainly isn't my favorite household job, but I have a new appreciation for marketing. Especially now that I'm addicted to cooking shows.
Some things I've learned:
1. The best time of day to shop is late morning. The shelves are stocked, the produce is fresh and there isn't a large crowd. This is useful knowledge since I tend to get shopping cart rage.
2. People at this time of day (say around 10 or 11 a.m.) are more inclined to commiserate. There's something endearing about discussing how to ripen fruit or the quality of meat at the butcher. No one is in a rush, we're all just taking our time perusing the aisles. So refreshing compared to the hustle and bustle of a five o'clock trip to the store.
3. The cashiers tend to be a bit more relaxed and chatty. I equate this to not having to deal with "happy hour" at the grocery store. I should note that I've never, not once, had a rude clerk at Hornbacher's (which is why we shop there).
4. The employees who bag your items and put them in your car really do appreciate a tip. Now if I could just get them to come over and put my groceries away.
5. It's best to make grocery shopping your one errand for the day. Otherwise, you could lose a whole chicken and a liter of Coke in your truck (but this has never happened to me).
I still dislike buying groceries, but in a month or so I'll wish I had the time to make the trip. Good thing Hornbacher's delivers.
-MM
Some things I've learned:
1. The best time of day to shop is late morning. The shelves are stocked, the produce is fresh and there isn't a large crowd. This is useful knowledge since I tend to get shopping cart rage.
2. People at this time of day (say around 10 or 11 a.m.) are more inclined to commiserate. There's something endearing about discussing how to ripen fruit or the quality of meat at the butcher. No one is in a rush, we're all just taking our time perusing the aisles. So refreshing compared to the hustle and bustle of a five o'clock trip to the store.
3. The cashiers tend to be a bit more relaxed and chatty. I equate this to not having to deal with "happy hour" at the grocery store. I should note that I've never, not once, had a rude clerk at Hornbacher's (which is why we shop there).
4. The employees who bag your items and put them in your car really do appreciate a tip. Now if I could just get them to come over and put my groceries away.
5. It's best to make grocery shopping your one errand for the day. Otherwise, you could lose a whole chicken and a liter of Coke in your truck (but this has never happened to me).
I still dislike buying groceries, but in a month or so I'll wish I had the time to make the trip. Good thing Hornbacher's delivers.
-MM
Spoiled with A Chance of Changes
Note: Edited for error.
I have it pretty good these days. I admit, I'm spoiled.
Since the unfortunatefiring elimination of my position at work, I've had the time to be keep the house (fairly) clean and have dinner on the table when Craig gets home. I'm on top of laundry and my organization skills are really coming along, as well they should, since I don't have an 8-5 job.
I love this time in my life. It will be short-lived because - drum roll here - I will be a full-time student in a few short weeks (yeah, I know, again). I love having extra time with Murray without rushing around in the morning and scrambling to get out the door (now I just scramble eggs). I love that I have the time and energy to cook again. I love having the time to read and write. I love that every closet and drawer in our home is at least semi-organized. I love spending more time with the hounds and keeping them brushed and looking good. I love watching the Cosby Show in the morning and Oprah re-runs from in the afternoon while I fold laundry.
The month of August will again bring changes and add a new dimension to our lives. I wonder if I can be a good Mom, wife, and homemaker and a good student at the same time? I'll let you know in a month or two. Right now, I have clothes to put away and dinner to prepare.
-MM
I have it pretty good these days. I admit, I'm spoiled.
Since the unfortunate
I love this time in my life. It will be short-lived because - drum roll here - I will be a full-time student in a few short weeks (yeah, I know, again). I love having extra time with Murray without rushing around in the morning and scrambling to get out the door (now I just scramble eggs). I love that I have the time and energy to cook again. I love having the time to read and write. I love that every closet and drawer in our home is at least semi-organized. I love spending more time with the hounds and keeping them brushed and looking good. I love watching the Cosby Show in the morning and Oprah re-runs from in the afternoon while I fold laundry.
The month of August will again bring changes and add a new dimension to our lives. I wonder if I can be a good Mom, wife, and homemaker and a good student at the same time? I'll let you know in a month or two. Right now, I have clothes to put away and dinner to prepare.
-MM
New Blog
Check out this hiliarous post from one of my new favorite blogs "The Mouthy Housewives". Thanks, Mama Kat, for introducing me!
-Murray's Momma
-Murray's Momma
Laughter
I cried from joy, then pain, and then the ultimate gift that was you, when you happened.
Now:
I laugh.
I cry.
I laugh again.
I get angry.
I cry, but laugh again.
I get frustrated.
I laugh until I cry.
Tears of happiness.
Because you happened.
You and your Daddy are my world.
You happened.
Your Daddy happened.
I cry again, tears of joy.
For you are a part of me.
I love you and will never stop.
Mama and Wife.
Now:
I laugh.
I cry.
I laugh again.
I get angry.
I cry, but laugh again.
I get frustrated.
I laugh until I cry.
Tears of happiness.
Because you happened.
You and your Daddy are my world.
You happened.
Your Daddy happened.
I cry again, tears of joy.
For you are a part of me.
I love you and will never stop.
Mama and Wife.
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