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Rollin with the Fruit Punches
 
This weekend my MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group hosted an Easter egg hunt for the local children. We had a cake walk, popcorn, and of course the Easter Bunny! The event had a fairly nice turnout considering the cold weather; we had around 50 kids show up for the festivities.

Now, let me paint a picture for you… wide open field with 2000+ eggs scattered all about, amongst these are 2 golden prize eggs.  In preparation for the hunt I say to Michaela “there are 2 golden eggs out there and if you find one of those you will win a prize, but there are only 2 of them so you can’t be upset if you don’t find the lucky golden egg”. Now I understand that saying this to a 4 year old is really only wasting my breath because we all know that she is going to be upset if she isn’t the winner, that is just how kids this age are.

The kids were divided into three groups 0-2 year olds, 3-4 year olds and 5 and up, and everyone is lined up in their age divisions. I am with Jacoby in the 0-2 group and Brandon has Michaela in the 3-4 age group. Jacoby and I get to start first, and he does a great job picking up the eggs he finds and putting them in his bucket. As Jacoby and I are finishing up Michaela’s age group starts. I look up to watch her, and this is what I see, Michaela takes off running making a beeline for the back of the field skipping all the eggs. I look at Brandon and say “what is she doing?” we are both yelling to her “pick up the eggs!”, “Michaela what are you doing? Get the eggs”! Well she knew what she was doing and I can sum it up in 4 words… EYE ON THE PRIZE. Brandon and I make it to the back of the field just as she is placing the golden prize egg in her bucket, she looks up at us and nonchalantly says “I found the golden one”, then proceeds to pick up some of the other eggs scattered around her.

While I can totally relate to a girls love for all things gold, I am now slightly worried about my checkbook as Michaela continues to get older. I mean if she is able to spot one golden egg in a field of thousands of eggs, I shudder to think the damage she will be able to do in a mall.
 
Picture
  Got a taste of the life of a single parent over the weekend. Have to say for me it's bitter as hell with a sour after taste. I now have a whole new level of respect for those of you out there raising a child on your own. More power to you!!! On Saturday, my daughter, Michaela, had her first soccer practice of the season (second go at the sport for her). Only one problem.....it's at the same time Krista  has a previous engagement... dum dum dum. Now, I've been a parent for 4 years, a parent of two kids for 2 years now...so I've got this (I can hear you laughing). I told myself, "How hard could it be? Surely I can successfully control a 2 and 4 year old for one hour, right?"
  Have you ever seen a Rocky movie? You know the story line. He trains for days to fight, thinks he's ready for the fight, gets his ass handed to him in the fight, wins the fight, and leaves you sitting their thinking, "How in the SAM-HELL did he win the fight?" That was me on Saturday.
 I spent the morning preparing for the bout. First Micky...bath..check, soccer outfit...check, shin-guards...check, soccer boots...check, soccer ball...check, filled water bottle...check, Father tested and approved hair (simply one ponytail badly pulled back and drifting to one side)...check. Now Coby... bath...check, diaper...check, clothed,,,check, diaper bag with extra diapers, wipes, juice filled sippy cup, snacks, and toys (aka Toddler Apocalyptic Meltdown Survival Bag). I also grabbed a blanket for us to sit on, cause in my mind I was going to get my 2 year old to sit there and not move for an hour while we cheer on Mia Hamm, I mean Micky(cause we all believe our child is the next        insert famous icon               in           insert current activity           ). I figured I had it in the bag (literally) and was prepared for this match.

Round 1.......Ding


  Time to get the kids loaded in the car, diaper bag in one hand…2 year old in one arm…blanket under one arm…Micky's soccer bag over one shoulder,…and Micky's hand in the free hand that I'm using to open the door. It's truly amazing the abilities you develop as a parent. It’s like having the gadgets of batman, with the strength of superman, with a parental form of spidey senses. Kids are finally loaded (strike that), juggled into the car. I took some damage this round. Dropped the diaper bag...Coby is not cooperating with getting strapped into his seat...Micky's crying wanting to hold her soccer ball to hold all the way there. This comes after I already loaded it into the back of the car, gotten in the driver seat, and fasten my seat belt. I told Micky she was going to have to wait till we got there.

Round 2.........Ding

  After retrieving Micky's ball from the back before we left (I caved...don't judge me!). We finally locate the practice fields. Now it's time to put those skills to the test once again...time to unload the car.  Suffer even more damage this round... Once again dropped the diaper bag, Coby is bucking to get out my grasp cause he wants to walk across the street, and Micky for some reason can not hold onto her ball to save her life. All this while trying to cross the parking lot. I could have sworn I heard "Chariots of Fire"(Doo doo doo doo dooooooo Doo Doo chahahahahah) playing during this 5 hour journey across the lot that should have taken only 5 minutes. Finally, we compete our galactic quest across the lot. I walk up to the coach and introduce Michaela and myself.

Round 3.........Ding

  So we have been re-directed to the correct field now... I re-introduce Michaela and myself to her actual coach. Of course at this point I'm holding in my arms the equivalent of a 50 lbs bear cub that has just smelled honey...Coby wants down. I set him down and turn my attention to Michaela since she is asking to kick the ball back and forth with me before practice starts. We begin to kick the ball back and forth for a bit. I turn to check on little man to find Coby (as if making the final turn in the Kentucky derby) making a dash for the field next to us. This is as issue since THERE WAS GAME IN PROGRESS!!! I chase after him....picture a Budweiser Clydesdale trying to run down sea-biscuit in the final leg. I catch him just before he hits the field....crisis diverted....old man injury forthcoming.

Round 4.........Ding


  Now using a cold sippy cup on knee as we are now sitting on the blanket I brought with us. Well, I'm sitting...Coby is being held against his will. I finally give up and turn to reach for the diaper bag to get him a snack thus exposing my flank for a counter. I begin to hear laughter and Micky saying, "No Coby, my soccer practice." Baby Pele has decided he wants to qualify for the Pampers Cup. He has rushed onto he field and is attempting to kick soccer balls into the goal (kid has no fear). I run out and grab him, return to the blanket, and continue to administer toddler anesthesia  (applesauce and a sippy). I continue to attempt to watch Micky go through her practice, kicking the ball in the net...she's looking like a pro. Nothing can stop her now.

Round 5..........Ding

  Micky has tripped over the ball and fallen on the ground and begins to cry. I pickup Coby and make my way on to the field to find out if she is okay. Is she crying cause she's hurt....no...cause she's embarrassed.....wrong again. "Micky, what's wrong honey?" I ask. "I got muddy", is her reply. I...got...muddy......Women's World Cup here we come. At this point Coby is crying cause he wants to get down and run around AGAIN. That's when I notice all the mud that was on his shoes....is now all over my shirt. I'm officially getting my ass whopped at this point by both kids. Coby is refusing to cooperated re-enacting his own personal rendition of Monster's Inc. Micky is not listening to the coach running around chasing her ball like a cat on a freshly mopped floor...it isn't graceful. My legs are getting weak I'm getting ready to go down for the count. and whistle blows. Coach tells the team to bring it in cause practice is over......I made it.......it's over....I'm still standing...... KRISTA....I DID IT!!!!!!!!!

 
A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day is a children’s book that follows the story of  Alexander, a five-year-old who trips on a skateboard when he’s getting out of bed one morning , and from there things only get worse for him. This book represents exactly how I would describe my day.

I know that I am not alone in this; I know that somewhere there is someone that has had a day just a crappy as mine.

So I will start at the beginning, I haven’t been feeling well all week, and it's likely that I am coming down with that lovely little virus that everyone around me keeps passing back and forth. You know the one, the virus that starts with you feeling just a little tired and worn down. Then BAM you wake up the next morning and your whole body aches, your head is throbbing, your throat feels like you are swallowing knives, and you cannot stop sneezing.

So, fighting through the sickness I drag myself from bed and get ready for my work day everything is going fine until I wake my 4 year old to get ready for preschool and realize that we had forgotten to do her homework from the night before. While I wouldn’t classify Michaela as the WORST morning person ever, she isn’t that pleasant some mornings. Today just so happens to be one of them. So, her homework is a one page sheet where she has to trace her name once then write it once on her own. All is going well until she is writing her name on her own, then in a majorly winey meltdown voice, “I can’t make the E, it’s too hard!” So I say to her “you have made the E many times before, you can make the E.”, and as we all know this then turns into a 10 minute meltdown that finally results in her making the E and finishing her work. However, we are now running behind for her to get to school and me to get to work.

The day goes on and I receive a letter from the IRS stating that they need me to re-send a form in order for them to process my tax return that I filed in January. Seriously, I am just now getting this letter. First off the IRS delayed accepting returns till the January 30th, and the returns were delayed further to February 15th for those filing with education credits. Now, a month after all the delays I am still being delayed because of an issue with the way the tax company I used transmitted my return. So I am starting to lose hope that we will ever see our 2012 tax return money.

Just when I think I am finally in the clear and can relax I hear “Mommy, I need some help”. While this string of words doesn’t always fill me with fear and dread, this time it did, the reason being that moments before this, My kid had gotten distracted playing and realized last minute that she needed to poop. So filled with dread I walk to the bathroom to find that she had not made it to the potty in time, ruining another pair of underwear. If you have ever had to deal with this experience you know that no matter how many times you wash your hands, you cannot get that smell off your skin.

It is days like these that make parenting and marriage and working all seem like a lot of work, and don’t get me wrong they are, you just have to take to good with the bad. Some days are great and everything goes right, your kids are in pleasant moods and you play games and snuggle before bed. It’s these bad days that make those good days seem so great!

 
So we decided to a start blog…”Why?” you may ask. Short and simple we just wanted to. Have you ever wanted to say something but were too polite or too afraid of the repercussions? Of course you have. We all have those thoughts, all the time. What better way to get them off your chest than to post them on the internet and let a bunch of random strangers read them? (Made sense in our heads.) Seriously, we have 2 kids and a little bit of craziness in the family department from time to time. We love to laugh at our kids and they love to come up with new ways to make us do so. Sometimes they succeed….sometimes…..they are laughing at us, trying to understand why Mommy and Daddy are beating their heads against the wall. Believe me …these guys should give us plenty to entertain you with.

  While I can’t guarantee that every post on this blog will be life changing and hilarious, I hope that we will be able to make you laugh as we attempt to share something that others can personally relate to…rollin’ with the punches of parenting.

    Krista & Brandon

    The UN-extraordinary tales of a normal family working through the challenges of life one fruit punch at a time.

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