Spoiled by Technology

I was leaving job training and clicked my unlock button for the car on my key ring. Nothing happened.

I clicked it again. The lock didn't pop up. Weird, maybe the battery in the remote is dead.

Now I start to panic . . . my car won't unlock . . . HOW AM I GOING TO GET IN MY CAR!!!!

After about three seconds I felt like a complete moron. I have a KEY on the key ring! For Pete's sake. As I jammed the key into my car, I realized it was a motion I haven't done in over eight years! No wonder I nearly freaked out. Thank the Lord above I didn't rush to someone for help. That could have been completely mortifying.

I jumped in my car and went to start it.

Click, click, click. Great, battery was dead. The locks should have been the first clue.

But . . . TA DA!!!! . . . technology to the rescue! Ryan bought me a portable car jumping kit. Okay, okay, maybe most people don't need one of these contraptions, but I do. Maybe I have a wee slight problem turning my lights off. Sure, they turn themselves off after a few minutes, but it adds up if you have kids in and out of the car looking for the crap they left in it. Then there is the teeny tiny problem with having a door cracked and the inside lights stay lit. Hey, if you had two babies in your arms in zero degree weather and you have to get behind the door and kick it on the far edge just right to get it to shut (most of the time it's impressive, you should see me do it on a thin layer of ice), you might have this problem too!

But back to my amazing contraption - I never knew these jumper thingers exsisted, but I am SO glad I had it. Totally worked. About the size of a kid's lunch box it fits under my seat (ooo, speaking of lunch boxes, I had the most ultra-knarly smurf one in second grade). It being extremely light, I just whipped it out, hooked it up, turned it on, and 60 seconds later my engine roared! Ahhh, I love being independent.

What have we learned?
1. My next van needs automatic doors
2. I love technology, even if it spoils me rotten

-Sara

Friday Freak Out

It was Friday. Ryan was on his way home from Germany. I had started a blog about my father's accident. MomBFF invited me to the gym with her and a male coworker of hers, we will call him John.

I decided working out was far better for my emotional state before heading to work training than obsessing over a blog about a plane crash especially since Ryan would be on a few of them all day. I left the blog half done and headed for the gym.

I had lifted weights and was finishing up my workout on the elliptical machine when one of the TVs in the room caught my eye. It wasn't the soap opera playing; it was the crawl underneath -

"BREAKING NEWS"

I only caught a few words the first time it went past - evacuated . . . emergency vehicles . . . other planes still landing and taking off.

I yelled, "WHAT!?!" and stopped pedaling. MomBFF kept going and looked at me like I was crazy. My heart jumped into my throat as I tried to process what I saw while waiting for the crawl to start over.

- Its a local news crawl
- They mean our airport
- Calm down, wait for it, wait for it

After what seemed like an eternity of "stay tuned from more coverage" and "breaking news live at noon" advertisements in the crawl, it came across again.

"A plane landed at Epply (our local airport) after reports of a fire . . . "

MomBFF watched my heart attack come on and mentioned, "Landed sweetie, it says landed, everyone is fine." But I didn't really hear her.

"Surrounded by emergency vehicles, the United Airlines plane has not yet been evacuated. . ."

Severe panic mode - Ryan flies United.

I now understand panic attacks. They suck arse. It was a full tense body, stomach on the floor, heart in your throat, ears ringing, feeling of running in circles sort of thing.

THANK GOD FOR MOMBFF - "Chicago, his plane hasn't even reached Chicago yet. He flies into Omaha later tonight, remember?"

The freak out was over. I was left feeling sick to my stomach and the tears welled up. I kept composure until I hit the locker room where I sat letting those silent tears run their course. I came back out to find John yelling at me to quit slacking. I told him to stuff it as MomBFF filled him in on the drama.

"So? That's nothing to freak out about," he insisted. Men, they are morons, but he did make me feel better. Yelling at someone feels good when you have pent up adreneline.

What have I learned? (I always have to figure out what I learned) Even though I have come to terms with the accident that caused my father's death, I guess I am always going to be overly sensitive when I see the word "plane" on TV.

-Sara

PS Ryan landed at 7ish later that night and made it home fine :)

Almost a Year

****Warning - sensitive material, may not want to read if you are hormonal today, or extra emotional****

After my father died, I found myself poring over memories and experiences. It amazes me how many moments aligned themselves at the end of his life.

We didn't discuss death often, but when it came up there were a few issues that were clear. The first was his adamant stance on open casket. He would NOT have an open casket funeral. When he was young he went to his grandfather's funeral. The image of his dead grandfather lying in the casket haunted him. He did not want any of us to have the image of him after he passed away. One time I told him, "Oh, we will have an open casket. You will be dead. You won't know the difference."

Not a single one of us had to see him after he died. The plane crash made an open casket completely out of the question. Since I make everything all about me, I am sure it was God's way of making sure I kept my father's request.

My father also worried about arguments over his possessions. When my great-grandmother passed away, there was a mad rush over to her house to clear it out. She didn't have anything of great value, but some relatives who got there first seemed to grab items just to grab them. My dad was appalled.

He later asked my siblings and me if there was anything of sentimental significance that we wanted when he died. None of us could think of anything we HAD to HAVE if he were to die. He laughed and said, "I thought for sure you would all say my ring." He was referring to a black hills gold ring with an eagle on the front. Immediately all three of us were spouting - Well yes, we will fight over the RING!!!

Once again, the plane wreck made this point moot. They never recovered his eagle or his wedding ring. My MomL told the funeral director she only wanted the rings if they showed no signs of damage due to the accident. During the wake, I pulled him aside and made sure he knew I wanted the rings even if they were simply a pool of melted gold.

He took me into an office and explained the plane went down around 9:45 PM, he arrived on the scene around 2 AM and the wreckage was still burning. There was nothing left.

I can't decide if everything lining up was fate, or if it is simply me being a pattern geek finding every possible lined up connection. Guess I will never know.

-Sara

Shhh!!!! It's a secret!!

I might as well confess here first.

Here it is -

I can't believe I am going down this road.

But . . .

I applied for a job. No really, I did. I had my second interview this morning at 8:30 AM.

If I get the job and tell my friends and family, they are going to be shocked. It has been my goal to become a stay at home mom for as long as I can remember. However, the circumstances seem right to reenter the work force. The stars are lined up and pointing me in that direction.

The decision was made mostly because it won't be a huge change for the household. Believe it or not I found a job where I can work a 24 hour work week and still be with my kids nearly as much as I am currently with them.

It is a graveyard shift Thursday through Saturday nights. It means I can't sleep with my babies anymore, but the time was right to move on to the bedroom stage. Last Sunday we moved the baby into his brother's room. The transition went so smoothly I cried when he didn't put up more of a fuss for me. Next I had to worry about how and when to get my sleep. Since MomBFF already watches the babies one school day while I volunteer, she has agreed to switch to watching them on Fridays so I can sleep during the school day. This does mean I will either have to give up the volunteering or add another morning away from my babies. I wouldn't be starting work until the end of February, so I have a while to decide. The other con is finding time to sleep during the weekend, but with Ryan home during those times, I don't mind sleeping in or taking a cat nap while he gets more dad time.

I am super excited. I have been tossing around the idea of this particular job since summer, but didn't see it as a possibility until now. As weird as it may sound, the motivation isn't even the money. I am not crazy - the extra money is going to be wonderful. I plan on throwing half my paycheck at the mortgage and using the other half towards kid activities and my shopping habit. My motivation is getting out of a rut.

Even though I have considered myself a stay at home mom for over three years, technically, I have always worked a few hours a week. I was teaching dance a few hours a week during the last two pregnancies. After I hung up the dance shoes, I began babysitting two days a week for mad money. I am considering this my new "non-mommy" adventure. I hope it works out.

-Sara

Ew, Ew, Poo-Poo

WARNING - This isn't for the weak stomached individuals. That being said, I HAVE to talk about diaper contents. You would think after having four babies I would have seen it all, but no. I have recently been shocked, once again by diaper contents. After being grossed out I realized, what a great opportunity! I should document them! Not only can I mortify my children when they bring home prom dates, I can also save some new parents a heart attack or two.

I have been freeked out by the best of them:

brand new baby first poo - takes at least ten wipes to clean off that black tar mess
breastfed baby poo - yellow/orange seedy looking gook that, in my opinion, smells like funky buttered popcorn, ew
formula fed poo - not as weird to look at as the breastfed poo, but way stenchier
raisins that end up looking like grapes poo - yeah, that was freaky, and completely disgusting
jello that stays intact poo - don't let your baby get ahold of red jello, but if they do, let dad change it. Ryan flipped out that his baby girl was menstrating. I laughed a very long time about that one (but only after we figured out the culprit)
lime green crayon bits poo - once again daddy changed this one, and even though I figured this one out in seconds, it was still gross all the same.
gritty due to pears poo - I would have swore she ate sand since it took almost as many wipes as a newborn poo!
saved up for seven days poo - ugh, I don't want to ever go through that again. Poor baby
and my favorite bright green due to fruit loops poo - nuff said.

Yes I have seen it all!

Or so i think, anyone else have poo experiences we should share with the new moms? I think I heard Marie mention an asparagus episode on a previous podcast . . . Marie? :)

- Sara

Home Life at Sara's House

As the newer Chit Chat Mom, I want to share some of my blogs to help you get to know me. The following is completely factual with no exaggeration needed. Most events happened during a two week business trip my husband went on soon after my father passed away. It began as a venting session during a night full of wallowing and missing the two most important men in my life. It ended with a realization I finally attained what I had always dreamed of having - a house full of kids and never a dull moment. I will admit, my home life doesn't always look this crazy, but it is close!

So, take a quick trip with me into the recent past take a glimpse of my world.

- Sara

Lessons I have learned in the past two weeks. 3-8-2007

Spare diapers that end up in the washing machine are BAD.
After breaking a washing machine with seven spare diapers, your first thought might be, "dang it, that was two dollars worth of diapers!"
The sanitize cycle fixes a washing machine that recently lost a battle with spare diapers.

You can completely shut a van door even if there are five year old fingers in the way.
Five year olds get wagon rides to the x-ray room at the children's hospital ER in Omaha.
Fingers that have been shut all the way in a sliding van door don't necessarily break, but they do turn purple.

It takes almost two full minutes to sweep up an entire box of spilled cheerios on a kitchen floor.
It takes under two full minutes for three 20 month olds to scatter 400 napkins across a living room.
When picking up and sorting 400 napkins, you wonder if it wouldn't be easier to spend few dollars and just replace them.

You can get purple marker off of ceramic tile way faster than you can get it off of skin.
You can't get black sharpie off of wall paper.

Strawberry toothpaste does not make good hair gel.
Strawberry toothpaste does make a good excuse to bath three 20 month olds.
Three 20 month olds fit in my kitchen sink.

Twelve inches of snow is enough to stop two days of school.
Twelve inches of snow is not enough to stop a woman on a mission in a 4x4 jeep.
After two days of being cooped up in a house, seven kids can drive a woman insane.

Five diapered children can go through up to 16 diapers in an average work day.
Diaper genies can only fit about 20 diapers.
It is possible to change five diapers in under 60 seconds.
If you are trying to break a diaper record, it helps to have Cheerios so you don't waste time chasing people.
If you are trying to break a diaper record, and you hit a messy one, concede.

20 month olds don't like to share toys, but they are willing to share granola bars and fruit loops.
6 month olds don't like granola bars, but they sort of enjoy fruit loops.

Hobby Lobby is great therapy.
When at Hobby Lobby with your best friend and eight kids under the age of eight, expect a few strangers to shake their heads at you.
The best response to, "wow, you have your hands full" is "not a hand full, just a heart full," even if you really want to say, "shut the $%^& up."

20 month olds like green olives.
You only have to drop an olive jar once to break it open.

There is a seven hour time difference between Omaha and Germany.
You have to dial 13 numbers to call Germany.
Germans expect you to understand German.
Some Germans understand you when you say, "okay," but they don't comprehend "gotcha."
If your man is in Germany, and you can't sleep, just log on to the computer at 1:00 am.
He will be able to say good morning and I love you.

When getting four sleeping children out of a minivan in below-freezing weather, start by moving the heavy sleepers first.
If you move light sleepers out of a minivan in below-freezing weather first, they will wake up, and by the time you get to the heavy sleepers, they are awake.
Four kids recently woken up by being carried in the cold prefer to sleep in mom and dad's bed.
Five out of six people can sleep comfortably in a king sized bed.
There are men out there that are willing to sleep uncomfortable.

7 year olds are the best help at the grocery store.
5 year olds help remind you what the speed limit is.
20 month old kisses are adorable when they master the smacking noise at the end of them.
6 month olds can hold conversations with the ceiling.

And in conclusion -
My oldest daughter doesn't care that I couldn't pause live TV, didn't have a remote, and had to "hold it" until commercials.
My oldset son's alien mom who is about an inch tall is STILL way nicer than I am.
My youngest daughter can climb onto the diaper changing table and jump onto the couch, but won't walk to the car by herself.
My youngest son can't crawl, but can scooch on his back, head first.
My man doesn't like German food
. . . . . and I love my life.

-Sara