Ducky Diaries: June 2015

Thursday, June 25, 2015

I meant to write this 15 days ago.

 I don't know where my brain has been but I totally meant to write this post a while ago. 

The kiddos had birthdays and it's always a big cluster duck because their birthdays are only 2 weeks apart so rather than doing individual parties we throw one. At least until they are old enough to protest enough that I care.
 But we also do something special with just us family members on their actual date of birth. So ya know, a big ole' cluster duck!

Bear turned 4 on June 10th. Which is absolutely crazy to me because I remember so wondering what it felt like to have a child who wasn't a baby when I was in the thick of caring for an infant and my friends had preschoolers.
It's always difficult on the birthdays, a reminder of previous birthdays when we still didn't know what Zachary's disability would eventually be labeled as.

There were even a few years where we were going through genetic testing and the titles of those labels were too depressing to handle. But we're here, all of us. Bear makes progress every year. Slow and steady. And Cerebral Palsy is the name of our game.

Some birthdays are just 100 % awesome. Some are difficult as he gets older and we really see the things he is not capable of, but then he does something he's never done before and we are reminded that he is the Captain of his own ship. He may be hit with storms but he works hard to right his vessel.   <3 


Zo-zo turned 2 on May 28th, which seems insane.  She's the last baby. Which comes with it's own ups and downs. And I always say it but I swear I just had her. How is she 2 already?

She can count to 20, sing her ABC's, is potty trained, cops an attitude better than me, has mastered the eye roll, and is a force to be reckoned with.  She is wild. I'm glad she was a surprise because I don't think I could have even imagined the amount of personality she possesses.

It's crazy how fast she has advanced almost out of necessity. 

The two of them together spells trouble as most days I feel like they are actually going to accomplish killing each other.

Dear friends with 2 or more children close in age, YOU ARE ASSHOLES!, thanks for telling me they fight like they hate each other.


To end this post before I can get any more elegant.......


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Tuesday, June 9, 2015

The Playground

At some point whatever god you believe in, along with man came up with a creation so glorious it saved our mentally frayed, child rearing brains.
We call it The Playground.....
Its sorcery coerces our spawn to leave us alone in increments that cannot be measured by time but by the needs of our sanity.
We show our thanks by wearily dropping our children, shooing them away, and then staring into space or at each other.
And that's how I realized The Playground is like this big majestic watering hole that brings together a wide variety of parental species.
Just look around you.
You're sure to see the following mammals:
-The Yoga mom
You can't miss her. She's flitting about in her workout gear like a speedy little hummingbird with the energy of a sugar fed child. She's also really good at making us feel like slackers in our knee length shorts, ratty t-shirts, and mom buns.
And she's there to walk the trails. Go ahead, loathe her while you want to be her.
-The Yoga pants mom
This woman is not to be confused with the Yoga mom. She's only wearing her yoga pants because they're comfortable. And they give off the illusion of working out, thus having her stuff together. She probably slept in them the night before.
Don't judge her too harshly, we've all been The Yoga pants mom.
-The chit chat coffee moms
They're together. Usually a group of 2-4 making the rest of us feel like the losers we were in 9th grade. Sipping something from a coffee mug or thermos while sitting on a bench or standing near the equipment ( My bet, it isn't coffee if you know what I mean.). Their kids are running in a pack because"The chit chat coffee moms" are always together and will inevitably become "The soccer/football/cheerleading/gymnastics moms".
-The Do your thing mom
Her kids are playing in a suspiciously wet sandbox covered head to toe in mud. It could be leftover rain water or urine.  "The Do your thing mom" does not care. As long as she's left alone for 10 uninterrupted minutes and no one is bleeding. This mom has zero f*cks left to give today. You find yourself slightly afraid and also wanting to be her friend. This is normal.
-The Helicopter mom
She hasn't sat down once because she's terrified Jr.s going to break a leg just by walking. You can see hand sanitizer dangling from her keys. Give her time, she'll change into "The Do your thing mom" after the second kid.
-The 'You're okay' mom
You hear her repeatedly yelling "You're okay!" every time her dare-devil children holler an "oww" or "mom". She's a distant cousin of "The do your thing mom". She's got her phone or a book and isn't leaving unless there's a significant amount of bloodshed.
-The Photog mom
You have no idea what her face looks like because it's hidden behind a camera. Her child is dressed like royalty and looks like an angel. "The Photog mom" turns The Playground into a photo shoot. You can't recall seeing her kid actually playing.
-The Dad
Whether he is a seasoned veteran SAHD or just getting the kids off mom's back, he always looks out of his element. The only hotdog at a hamburger stand.  He's also the one running across The Playground to get to his princess before she leaps from the top of the spiral slide while screaming at his other spawn to not move.
Newsflash, the not moving spawn just peed themselves.
-The Grandparents
They show up with an ice cream covered cherub. Their pockets are stuffed with gummy worms and ice cream shoppe napkins. They try to keep up with the kiddos until retiring in front of the slide or sandbox on a bench in the shade while they cheer the sticky choco monsters on.
Ah, The Playground. It's the equivalent of a football half time. It's where we as parents go to take a moment. Refresh. And prepare ourselves to jump back into the game when it's time to leave. We're all there for the same reason. To hopefully expel our offsprings never ending kid-ness (totally a word). Even if we all look differently while doing so.

Monday, June 1, 2015

Captains log

Parenting day 1,460+1 ( because I'm pretty sure there was a leap year somewhere):

Kids fed, bathed, dressed, happy, healthy.

I realize I forgot to brush my teeth 20 minutes into a trip. Not the first time not the last.

Fast forward to 2:00 p.m. and ending up in the emergency room for a suspected blood clot.

I realize as my legs are being felt up that I haven't shaved in at least a week. 

And I'm pretty sure I haven't showered in at least 3 days.

I contemplate my life choices as I wait for the ultrasound tech to arrive, and watch Harry Potter movies with my sister in law. 

Then eat some chinese food. 

The ultrasound tech arrives to feel me up from groin to toes while telling us he's paid off all his kids debt. 

I wonder if adoption still applies to us 30 year olds. Not for my kids, but for myself. I am technically an orphan..... 

7:00 p.m. breathe a HUGE sigh of relief that there are no clots, just an angry vein.
Lesson learned? 

I showered and shaved last night. And have managed to brush my teeth today, twice.

Also if you spend 5 hours away from your kids your blood pressure will significantly drop. In a good way. 

                                                               Room with a view.