I'm Not Bossy. I'm The Boss.

I was talking to my sister this morning and she asked what Tula was yelling about in the background and I was like, "Oh she's in the bubble bath and she wants me to bring her some bacon."

And then we both paused because - Tula's life right now you guys, is pretty much platinum.

She's in a bubble bath I made for her with my favorite shampoo (because it makes the best bubbles and I'm a pushover), playing with about forty different Barbie dolls, and she's just randomly demanding people bring her bacon.

She's basically Beyonce.

Remember That?

I know I'm like the little boy who cried wolf with this blog, but I REALLY am going to start writing more because I want to be able to remember things. I remember nothing at this point. 

That's not true, I remember the minute the kids went to bed, when they woke up, how many bites they ate, and how much water they've had. I remember every single detail of their lives that is important to their survival. My brain only thinks about what the kids are doing, what they need to be doing, and how I can get it done. I am constantly thinking about these four other little people, so I can't let anything else in. If you want me to remember your birthday you better send me an email telling me to call you. If you want me to remember what to buy at the grocery store you better tattoo that sh*t on my forehead. And if you want me to remember when the last time I shaved my legs was, you better talk me into getting to third base because that's the only way we'll be able to tell.

Aw, remember third base?

Nope.

ME EITHER.

Anyway, the kids are cute. They ate three minutes ago. They need to eat again in 38 minutes. The end.

I actually have been squeezing in extra work, at night when they're asleep, and it is so nice. It is so nice to be using my brain for things that don't involve poop or making toast. And I'm getting paid to write tiny little things which is beyond my favorite thing in the world. It's pretty much like my birthday every day I do it. Even if it's something I have zero interest in writing, I still love it so much. I could write people's grocery lists for them and be thrilled.

Ok, so real stories coming later. For now, pictures!

But first, are we all on the same page with what third base is? Who the hell has time for that?! 

Please tell me you have time for third base. Someone out there! Maybe when the kids are all in preschool? MC, I know you have time for that. You sexy minx.

The kids!

Tula is totally ready for whatever.

Addie loves her new scooter! She's super serious about it.

Bath time love!

Oh these boys! My heart.

Friends are the best.

It's almost June, but they still rock the Christmas jams.

Oh my god I went on a trip. To a wedding. BY MYSELF.

No kids at all.

For the first time in 5 years.

More on that later, obviously.

Mother of the Year

So, Addie's school had them do a little Mother's Day project last week and when I walked in to pick her up on Friday one of her teachers was already laughing. When I asked her what was so funny she said, "Oh just waaaaait!"

Yeah.

FIRST OF ALL!

I was laughing so hard/almost crying.

But, ALSO! 

I don't know why she thinks I like cleaning so much. I genuinely hate it. I like to have things clean. I adore a clean house. I just dislike doing it. Like, with a passion. As soon as she's old enough, Addie is taking over the majority of the cleaning. 

ALSO! 

She's not wrong though. I spend all. damn. day. cleaning the ding dang house.  That's what happens when you have four small, highly destructive children who claim paralysis and young age when I ask them to pick up after themselves. When I told Luke to pick up the blocks he threw all over the living room this morning he just looked at me, said, "Bee!" and ate a Tic-Tac he found on the floor that I'm pretty sure is over 2 years old. 

"Some help you are!" I yelled at him as I walked away to have a talk with Henry about how he shouldn't eat tin foil. In response Henry giggled and spit out the tin foil and something else I couldn't define, but I'm pretty sure it was a hardened piece of orange I lost 3 months ago.

"Henry, go home you're drunk," I told him as I moved onto Tula.

Tula was sitting on a sea of laundry spilled onto the floor, so large I could no longer see a single square inch of floor. I didn't even bother with that.

"Call me when you're 12 and I can ground you," I said walking away to the next mess.

And the next. 

And the next.

And that's why she thinks my favorite drink is "alcohol."

For the record! I only drink wine after I put everyone to bed! And I can barely get through a half a glass before I fall asleep in my ice cream.

Little stinker. Now her teachers think I'm an OCD lush, with a salad-eating disorder. 

Such a typical mom.

My babies and me on Mother's Day. 

I am so lucky.

Baby Love

I am not afraid of affection. I love me some affection. I kiss and hug my kids constantly. If Josh would let me, I'd kiss and hug him constantly, but he likes to "breathe" and be able to "eat with two hands" and "look single."

Luckily, most of my kids are super affectionate too, but Luke - my sweet little Lukey - is affectionate to the max! Sometimes I will be doing the dishes or something and I'll look up to find him smiling and making little googly eyes at me like a love-struck Romeo. If we're at playgroup, or the library, or somewhere someone might give him eye contact, he'll stare hard at his intended until she (or he - he's an equal opportunity lover) looks back and smiles, and then he'll bring out the cheeks and the eye lashes and before you know it you're giving him all your money and promising to run away to Mexico with him.

And lately, he's gotten into kissing. Like, really, really into kissing. Often when I pick him up he's so thrilled and in love with me for giving him attention (which is 99% of the day), that he'll start kissing me on the lips. But not just a light peck, it has now turned into deep, long, dare I say it - passionate kisses.

We almost frenched the other day, you guys.

He is really forceful with his love.

This is mid-make out sesh.

How can you not love that little face?!

I love him so much, and I love that he wants to kiss me (and everything that's ever laid eyes on him, just because they looked at him) but I can't tell if I feel uncomfortable or not when the kiss lasts more than three seconds. I tend to just end it and pull away, but then he just goes in for more.

I've seen him do this to Josh to, and Josh (a 190 lb, 6'2" man) gets pinned to the ground with the sheer force of Luke's love and he cannot escape it. He'll start doing the uncomfortable giggle-kiss where he's like, "Oh, thanks for the kiss Luke *kiss* Oh, one more? How ni- *kiss* Wow, I missed you too buddy *kiss* Ok, jeeze you're reall- *kiss* Alright, maybe I could just sit up *kiss* Can I just *kiss* Thanks, uh *kiss* Mom *kiss* Hey, Mom! *kiss* Mom! *kiss* Little help! *kiiiiiiiisssssssssssssss*"

He's a very romantic baby, you guys.

If you ever feel like you need someone to make you feel special, call Luke. He'll love the crap out of you.

About to attack Tula with his charm.

Henry's trying to escape Luke's advaces, straight out the doggie door.

Easter cuteness.

They have these amazing things at the mall, that are like giant robot stuffed animals you can ride on. They blast Michael Jackson and go about .04 mph and the kids LOVE them because they get to drive around the mall like big shots.

So fun!

Luke sending his lovey kisses through the tupperware, so you can keep it fresh.

Addie and Tula rockin' their dad's old t-shirts from when he was a kid.

Luke, charging me so he can tackle, and kiss. 

Just a normal day.

Playing Sofia

Sometimes having three siblings super close in age to you is rough. Mostly, it awesome. Adeline always has someone to play with, someone who follows her around, someone who lets her boss them around. But we all want a little one on one time now and again, and Adeline needs it.

She's always the one who gets pushed to the side if someone gets pushed to the side, because she's the oldest and she can do it herself. She can go to the bathroom alone, she can get dressed, she can draw, she can paint, she can read (memorize) books, she can work the iPad, she can do it all. And I actively have to remind myself she's only four years old. She's still a teeny tiny kid!

So, now we have a routine at night where after we put the other three to bed, Addie gets to play a game with me and/or her dad. All by herself.

And it is so joyus!

I didn't realize I needed it as much as she does. I miss her during the day. I don't miss Luke or Henry because they are all up in my biz all the time. And Tula. She's even more up in my biz, if that's possible. They demand attention. But Adeline will sit patiently and wait, for hours.

She is an amazing kid.

Right now she has two options: two rounds of Candyland, or something she calls, "Sofia". Candyland is self-explanatory and so fun.

Sofia, is a game she only plays with her dad. I didn't really understand what it was until I stumbled in on it last night. Basically she plays with her Sofia the First doll and Josh listens to her, and occasionally hands her things. All I saw was her going, "Ok, Dad. Now I want the green necklace." He hands it to her. A few minutes go by and she says, "Dad, now I need the pink one. No, that pink one."

It is hysterical! And also, he is so soft and patient with her I want to cry.

When we got in bed that night I said:

"So, 'playing Sofia' means you hand her the pieces of jewelry she asks for?"

"Yes. And then I watch her march Sofia around and position her on different pieces of furniture."

*near hysterical giggling* "Why don't you get a doll to play with?"

*dead serious* "That's not my roll."


I mean, that's a good dad right there.

Also, the other day we went to the mall and the Easter bunny was there and the kids BEGGED to see him. So I let them.

Addie would not get off his lap.

Tula would not get within 100 feet of him. That's why he's no where near her in this picture.

Luke, however, was overjoyed! Henry doesn't know why we won't let him down so he can tear all those gigantic fake flowers down.

Which he did five seconds after this picture.

So cute!

Note To Self

I am so not good at the typical "mom stuff" stuff. I don't keep a memory book for any of our kids. I put Addie's first lock of hair in a special holder, and now I can't find it. Last Easter I told Addie the Easter Bunny needed a bathroom break because I forgot to hide the eggs before she woke up. And then I told her Santa wasn't real.

Kidding.

But I keep thinking I'll remember everything cute they do and say and of course I don't. And I don't remember to write it down either, so I'm trying to get better at it.

For instance, right now, if Tula is talking about that black silhouette that the sun casts on the pavement she says, "Mom, is that my eye shadow?"

Luke is saying Mommy, Daddy, Addie and for Tula he says, "Doy!" It is beyond adorable. We'll be yelling, "Tula! Come here!" and Luke chimes in, "Doy! Doy!"

Henry says Mama, Dad, and Nah. As in, no. "Nah!"

And Addie can say everything, she is extremely well-spoken for a 4 year old, but sometimes things are so overwhelming she just can't stop talking about it. When Tula had an allergic reaction to Amoxicillin we were at the doctor's office every day for a week and one of those times Addie was with us and the doctor had to check Tula's nether regions because there were hives everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

So, she put on her gloves, and started checking, and Addie just happened to be in the line-of-vagina-sight and the look of horror on her face was so mighty, and so hysterical I wish I had been filming it.

Immediately she said, "MOM! I do not like looking at her vagina! Oh no. No. No. No. No. Is that what mine looks like inside?"

She was practically in tears for poor Tula and her totally normal vagina.

And then she talked about it every hour for about four days.

Ah, kids! They are so adorable!!!

She needs her goggles for the wolf petting.

No time for Daddy, she's got wolves to pet!

Luke has his sixth ear infection in six months. Such a bummer. It's ENT time.

So, I did something silly and let my friend talk me into running a St. Patty's day 10K. It turned out to be super fun, and I ran it faster than I've ever run before thanks to my friend C who sneakily paced me! Felt good to feel like a real person again, and not just someone's mom.

Plus you get a beer at the finish line! God bless the Irish!

My sister dyed her hair! 

She's so gorge.

Just a little stroll on a pretty day!

Henbo and Boris have a strong love affair going. 

Group Hug

Today while I was pushing all four kids in a cart through the Target parking lot a woman stopped her car and rolled down her window to talk to me. If this had happened in LA I might have braced myself to start cussing back. Or to defend myself for crossing the road so slowly with my heavy ass cart full of a shocking amount of kids under 5.

But not in Bozeman.

The woman stuck her head out and said, "Way to go Mom! You're doing a great job!"

And I just smiled and mouthed, "Thank you," because I was afraid I was going to start crying if I actually spoke.

"Really awesome! What a good mom you are!"

And then she drove away.

She didn't see me yell at my kids in the car for dumping an entire bag of Goldfish on the floor.

She didn't see me tell them they could wear slippers to the store because I couldn't find two matching shoes. Anywhere. For anyone. (WHERE DO ALL THE SHOES GO?!)

She didn't see that they were wearing two different slippers on each foot because we couldn't find matching slippers either.

She didn't see me laugh when they threatened each other with being thrown in the "Fart Room" if the other one didn't play kidnap the right way. Yeah, kidnap. That's their favorite game. And the Fart Room is where you go to be punished with farts. There's so much wrong with that whole scenario.

She didn't see me let Tula eat only yogurt for 2 days because she was so dang cute when she said, "I Tuwa. I eat dis yogurt, ok Mom? It's super duper yummy. You wike it much and much?"

Much and much, you guys! I mean - c'mon! Who can say no to that?!

But she also didn't see me reading to the kids for hours on the couch.

She didn't see me giving them a billion kisses, or telling them I love them a hundred times a day.

She didn't see me let Addie stay up a little past her bedtime because she really needed time to just talk, just breathe near me without her sister or brothers interrupting her.

She didn't see me checking on Tula every hour all night long for several nights when she had a super scary and severe allergic reaction to amoxicillin.

She didn't see me take all four kids to the park by myself because the sun was out and they needed it. And it was so glorious.

So, how did she know I was a good mom? How did she know I was doing a good job, or that my kids were actually thriving and not abused into behaving in the parking lot?

I don't know.

I don't know that she did. But she saw me, and I happened to be smiling at my kids and maybe she assumed. Or maybe she's had kids and she knows the struggle is real. She knows that sometimes moms just need to hear that they're not messing it all up. That even though they yelled too much one day, or are probably causing yogurt-induced malnutrition, or that they can't keep track of clothes - they are still doing a good job. They are still being a good mom.

You shouldn't have to have validation to continue fighting the good fight of motherhood, but gosh darn it if that woman didn't make me day. She made my week.

Stopping and rolling down her window to tell me I was doing a good job. That will stay with me for a long time. That will keep me going. That will make me be a better person today.

Words are so amazing and so powerful. She could have just driven away and had the thoughts to herself, but she said them and changed my day.

And in return I said nice things to people I saw at Target, at the post office, at the library.

And my kids saw me do that. That's the best part.

Addie actually asked me, "Why'd you talk to that lady?" And I said, "Because it's nice to be nice to other people." And she said, "I know that mom. You tell me that all the time." And then she walked up to a homeless woman sitting inside the library, out of the cold, and said, "I like your scarf," and walked away.

Good, little lady. I hope that radiates from you in ten years, and twenty, and thirty like it does now. I hope you are just as positive and wonderfully happy when you're old and gray.

I hope you stop playing kidnap soon, because that's starting to worry me.

But that's a different post for a different day.

Today I am happy to be a mom. I am happy to be part of the whole thing. I am happy to be a woman who is doing a good job. Most of the time. And you should be proud of yourself too. Because it's hard to do - be proud of yourself. It's really f*cking hard. There's always room for improvement and there's always something you can nitpick, but honestly - you are doing a great job.

And so am I.

And so are my kids.

Amen.

We have had some gorgeous days lately.

And some wild hair.

So thrilled to be allowed outside!

Sunshine! Heck yeah!

First haircut! Took of almost 5 inches!!!

Someone is super stoked to have her first board game! 

Because this month is about women.