The "People" in Your Family....

I was told that when you are finished having children, you'll "just know". Until I had our second child, I didn't understand. Now I do. This uterus has a "CLOSED" sign on it. We have two children, which is one for each parent. I find that for us, this works well. Besides, there are other members of our family that I need to keep a close watch on....

Every parent thinks it's adorable when their child adopts a "lovey". It's a stuffed animal, or a blankie, or some other comfort item your child forms an attachment to. We take pictures of the child with the lovey, we take the lovey to the park with the child, we give the lovey hugs when our child asks....wait a minute - take the lovey to the park? Why, of course. The thought of taking the lovey somewhere can strike fear into the hearts of parents...WHAT IF THE LOVEY GOT LOST!!!!????

My daughter has a lot of stuffed animals - I was the same way at her age. I loved my bear. He was forgotten at Grandma's once. So he took the Greyhound home. I forgot my blankie once on the way to grandma's. My parents drove an hour home just to get it, turn around and go back to Grandma's.

Some of her stuffies sleep on the floor, some at the end of her bed, but there are three that are the "special" ones. I'm talking about her Care Bears. She got the first one (Funshine) for Christmas when she was two, and it was love at first sight. Two other bears followed. Cheer Bear came first, and then another bear with a long name who was nicknamed "Heart". She also calls Funshine "Funsh", as apparently he needs a nickname too. These three bears have gone on many adventures with us.

Flash back to October 2008 - Hubby and I take the girl child and head to Hawaii with my mother and her husband. The boy wasn't born yet. Travelling with a young child can be a bit stressful. Hubby and I were always making sure that we had all of the important things. Money? Check. Passports? Check. Care Bears? Check. We're good to go. The Care Bears came on the flight in our carry on luggage. Note: ALWAYS TAKE LOVEYS IN CARRY ON. Our luggage didn't make it until the day after we arrived in Maui. Who cares about clothes?! WE HAD THE CARE BEARS. We had a great time in Hawaii. The Care Bears did too. When it was time to go, my mother had left her passports back at the resort and had to dash back to get them to make the flight home. We were ok. We had ours. And, we had THE CARE BEARS.

Hubby and I have gone over emergency preparedness plans. In case of fire, or tornado, or evacuation, he grabs the girl (she's heavy), I grab the boy and Hubby also must grab THE CARE BEARS.

The Care Bears need a bath occasionally. I have made up elaborate stories about what they do in the washer and dryer (swim, play mermaids etc) because the girl child was worried they would drown.

The Care Bears don't care if they get vomited on. It's happened a number of times. Again, Hubby and I have a system. I clean up the child, he gets the Care Bears in the washer IMMEDIATELY. They have to be clean and ready to comfort a sick child.

So, do you see WHY I can't possibly add another child to this family? I simply can't handle the responsibility of the child and the loveys. The boy hasn't yet formed an attachment to anything. He'd rather bite his Elmo stuffy, or use it to beat his sister with.

Our family is a family of 7. Hubby, me, two kids and three Care Bears. I must admit, we look cute in family pictures! I also have to admit, that when I'm cleaning up the girl's messy room, I give those Care Bears a little squeeze too...they are what she loves, and because I love her, I love them a bit too.

The Ugly Truth

There are a number of television programs out there that focus on raising children, going to work, and balancing your life. There are hundreds of websites and books that instruct us on how to "get the most" from our everyday life. I have an email that comes to my inbox from a life coach with titles like "Balance: Work and Home. It is Possible!" and "How to Keep Positive in these Negative Times". All fine and dandy, but what happens when I don't have the TIME to read these emails? As a matter of fact, I get rather annoyed that I don't have the TIME to reply to the "unsubscribe" feature on these emails, and so month after month they keep coming, reminding me that I need to find the "balance".

No one ever tells you the real truth. That there are a lot of us who would much prefer to sit on the couch and eat cookies while watching others do home renovations on HGTV than actually do them ourselves. Let me give you an example of what I mean....

It is six o'clock on a Thursday evening. We've had supper, the dishes are still on the table, the kids need a bath, and the parents are on the couch, "digesting" as we like to call it. The phone rings and hubby announces that we are going to have company in an hour. HOLY CRAP. Suddenly, we feel the need to transform our house into a showhome. I quickly grab the chunk of rotten banana off of the coffee table that was left there yesterday by the baby and start running around making things "perfect". Run upstairs, grab underwear off floor of bathroom. Throw all laundry into hamper and shove it into a closet. Wipe hair out of sink. Step on small yet very sharp action figure. Question if boy should play with said sharp figure. Decide that he still has both eyes, so it can't be that bad. Throw action figure under the bathroom sink. We'll find him in a month and it will be like a new toy all over again. Score one for mama. Run downstairs to where hubby is sweeping up questionable looking dirt from dining room. Start loading dishwasher with supper dishes. Hubby says, "Don't just cram everything in there, it won't get clean". Pffft, I cram all kinds of stuff in there while he's at work. It comes clean, by at least the second or third wash.Daughter announces that the baby has a poopy diaper. Change diaper while tackling boy who wants to run around with bare poopy bottom. Run back downstairs and cram all the toys (WHERE DID THESE ALL COME FROM?) into the toybox. Get shower going and instruct daughter to wash well. Hubby has finished sweeping the floor, and is now chipping some mysterious substance off the kitchen table. It is glued onto the table so well that NASA could use it to hold a space shuttle together. Daughter is out of shower, baby smells good, house looks somewhat...presentable. Parents are wiping the sweat from their heads. Put on some jazz, turn on lamps for a relaxed atmosphere and....wait. WE DID IT! We managed to shove our messes into cupboards and closets and make our house look somewhat presentable. Doorbell rings and we casually answer it, as though we had been sitting and listening to jazz and talking about world affairs. Daughter comes down the stairs from her shower and announces to guests that mom and dad have been cleaning really fast for the last hour. Daughter is given a snack. If her mouth is full she can't talk. Then we have a lovely visit with some good friends.

While I am running around, I ask myself, "Does everyone have to do this?" Are we so slovenly that if we have company pop in we can't let them past the front entry? I don't know the answer. This is a closely kept secret between family members (unless your daughter outs you as mine frequently does). Are all of the other families I know living in a perfect house that is clean and everyone can find matching socks everyday?

Here's what I do know, and it's taken me a few years to figure it out. I'M NOT SUPER WIFE/MOM/EMPLOYEE. I am who I am. And that's ok.

But don't pop in to visit. Give me an hour. Or we may have to visit on the front step...