put your feet down

Driving on long trips (more than 5 minutes) with Makenzie is well, interesting. She likes to talk and she loves to put her feet up. I have to tell her at least 30 times, on a good day... "put your feet down." I think I was on time number 362 for the day, when Makenzie asked me "Why do I have to put my feet down?" I took my time in deciding how to respond, knowing that however I respond she will give it 3 minutes before she puts them right back up there. Several things ran through my my mind, from the "because I said so, I am the adult" to "It's unsafe" to "you are ruining my seats". Ruining my seats is not exactly believable, I drive a car that's 12 years old, the seats are beyond help.
I finally decided on "You know Makenzie I would prefer if you didn't put your feet on the seats because its unsafe, if we get in an accident you could be injured or killed"
Her response- "that wouldn't be so bad"
Me- "yes it would, if you something happened to you I would be very sad and so would your mom"
And would you believe the girl gives me an answer I was not expecting, nor asking for, big surprise in Makenzie world.
"Honestly, Aunt Mandy it wouldn't be that bad... I can just hang out with God until Grammy gets up there to heaven. The Man's been taking care of me since I got here, you think he's not gonna help me get friends up there until everyone else comes?"

Exactly how do you respond? You don't.

Time between conversation and the next feet on seat incident... how about she never put them down.

zebra pack of gum, I am my mom.

Anyone remember this gum? I sure do, so delicious and fruity... and it lost it's flavor so quickly that you were forced to eat the whole pack in under an hour. Although, maybe I made that up so I could eat it as fast as possible, who knows. This was the treat of all treats. I'm talkin' the mother of all that was awesome! This gum and the story behind it made me realize I am my mothers child. What had happened was...

We were at a grocery store with my mom, I can't tell you what age (if I guessed I would say sixish?) or where exactly. I just know it was a grocery store, with the candy section sitting right there in the cashiers line. With that zebra pack of gum, eye level or shall I say hand level. Right there just waiting for the taking, I am pretty sure it was glowing and it called my name and then my sisters. I know she heard it, because I could see that look on her face knowing she thought the same thing. That pack of gum wanted us, and we wanted it. So, I grabbed it, handed a piece to my sister, took a piece for myself and stuck the rest of the pack in my pocket. Didn't think anything of it until I got to the car and the first piece lost its flavor. Popped another in my mouth and handed Alicia another, by about piece 4 our mouths were full and my mom started to get suspicious, probably because Alicia and I weren't fighting talking like usual. When the woman realized our mouths were full she began to question us, asking about what was in our mouths and where did we get it... you know typical mom investigation, the kind where no matter what you say you know you're not getting away with anything. At the end of said investigation, she made us go back to the store, apologize to the cashier, then to the security guy and made us give the gum back. She then had the security guy tell us what could happen if we did it ever again. Honestly, jail sounded way better than publicly apologizing to everyone in the store my mom could find in her radar. I was embarrassed and I am pretty sure my sister was too. Note to six year old self- never steal anything ever again, even if that zebra gum is calling you by name. I learned my lesson.

Fast Forward 22 Years...
We now have a six year old living with us. She has a ton of tricks up her sleeve, most of them I am well aware of and I know she's about to pull them. Why? Well hello little lady I grew up with your mom (my sister) all of what you think are original tricks were actually invented by your mom.
So, Tuesdays are often Drews day with Makenzie. He takes her to gymnastics, does her homework and puts her to bed. I usually work pretty late so I don't get home until later. It was a usual Tuesday and Drew asks Makenzie if she had homework, makenzie says no and nothing more is said, that is until Aunt Mandy comes home. Drew and I talk about the day and when Drew says Makenzie had no homework I get a little bit suspicious, she's had homework every night for 2 months, then none? I ask if he checked her folder, and he tells me yes. I then ask did you check the other pockets in her book-bag, and he's questioning why would I check her pockets? ha! Alicia used to crumple her homework up and put it in another pocket or the trash, no homework if it doesn't exist right?? wrong. Sure enough crumpled up homework at the bottom of the side pocket.
Drew and I discussed what would be the best way to handle this, I thought about my sister at 6 years old and how she would have reacted to each situation.
a. wake her up and have her do the homework- but then she would get to do exactly what my sister would have loved to do as a kid, join the party that she was convinced our parents had every night when she went to sleep.
b. See if we asked her in the morning about it if she would confess?- she doesn't lose out in any way, does her homework on the run and goes to school no consequences.
c. Let her know that we know about her hidden homework and not let her finish it... have her go to school early and let the teacher know she did not have her homework because she lied to her uncle about having homework.

We discussed, and in we went 20 minutes early to apologize to the teacher for not having her homework and have her tell the teacher why exactly she didn't have it. We walked out of the room and at that moment I realized that I had just made Makenzie do the exact same thing my own mother made me do. I realized I am my mother. My only hope is that her publicly apologizing for lying will have the same impact that it had on me and my sister 22 years earlier for stealing liberating that zebra gum.

running for fun

This house is a house of runners. My husband and I met on our college cross country and track team. On most weekends we can be found at a cross country or track meet of the team I help to coach, or at a local road race.... either racing or watching. If I am not helping with the High School team, then I am usually at the gym where I do private running lessons. I don't race as much as Drew does (and being pregnant I run even less), but I enjoy watching him race as much as I like running myself. With that being said, my niece is usually with us. She is a runner herself (long before she joined us for the year), but she is a very recreational runner. She is 6, there is no reason she should be anything BUT recreational. She has been running 5k's since she was 4 years old, she has never been forced. Trust me, if she doesn't want to run, she won't. She will walk and there is no changing her mind, and Drew and I are fine with that, so is her mom. Her favorite part about running in 5k's is when she "passes the old ladies and when people cheer for her at the end". She usually chooses the 5k's based on the T-shirt, she will see uncle Drew get his goody bag then decide that the T-shirt is super cute, and want to enter so she can get the shirt too. So, her running so far has been based on fashion.

During dinner this week, makenzie turns to me and says...
Mak- "Aunt Mandy, you know how I have been running 5k's for fun?"
Me- "yes"
Mak- "Well, I think I need a training plan for my next one... Do you think uncle Drew will make me a training plan?" and without a breath continues on with "Also, I know I am sponsored (she means wearing) by Asics... but I think I want to be sponsored by Brooks, those are uncle Drews shoes right? I think that will help me train better if I get Brooks? When uncle Drew gets home from work can you let him know that I need a training plan and some Brooks?"
Me- Well, I was speechless. I mean totally speechless.

So, this weekend we looked up some 5k's and she is currently deciding on which one she wants to do. Uncle Drew ordered her the exact same shoe (but in her size and color) that he wears... and her and Uncle Drew will begin working on her training plan as soon as she decides which race she wants to do.

This house of runners is so excited to have added another runner to the world!

a bit of my brother

I hope you enjoy this as much as we do in our house. Maybe one day this voice will be played through the radio, until then... enjoy.

the bravest little soldier

There is a six year old girl that sleeps in a pink room, in a pink bed and on a pink pillow. She wears pink clothes, puts ribbons and bows in her hair and wears a smile as big as the sun. She plays with Barbie’s, colors with chalk and rides her pink scooter. She says witty things and sings pretty songs. She loves her momma and all of her family. She loves to visit her Grammy, and spend the afternoon with pop-pop watching football, of course, always cheering for the other team. She loves her nicknames and begs to be called them. She loves her school, her teacher, her bus stop and her bus driver. She says the same prayer each night at the dinner table, "Thank you for this wonderful house, thank you for this wonderful family and thank you for this wonderful food." She loves her wonderful life.

The little girl knows this life is not her own. The wonderful life she is surrounded by, although may seem picture perfect, she knows does not belong to her. It is her transition whiles she waits for her momma to return. Before she falls asleep each night she asks her aunt and uncle to pray with her, not for her, but for her momma. She asks for protection so her mom can be safe and do her work quickly to get home sooner. Her momma is not there, to her, her momma is in another country helping other little girls have the life she has. The little girl lives in that wonderful house with her wonderful family, while her momma is away. At night she grabs the tattered, torn and tear stained picture of her momma and lays it on her pink pillow, she knows is not her own. She kisses that picture, and tells her mom she is the bravest momma and Soldier she knows. She asks her aunt to cross off the day on her "Hello Kitty" calendar; she knows it means one less day until she can hug her momma and not just the picture. She gets a hug and a kiss from her aunt and her uncle, she tells them she loves them but misses her momma. She calls the little dog, to sleep in the room that does not belong to her. The little girl knows that tomorrow is another day to spend in the life that is not her own.

Each night after that little girl falls asleep; her aunt climbs the stairs and takes the picture of the little girls’ momma, clutched between the little girls’ fingers, and places it back on the pink pillow. Her aunt tucks that little girl tighter into the pink bed and wipes the dried and salty tears off the little girls cheeks. Her aunt gives the dog one last scratch behind its ears and prays that the little dog will provide some comfort, through the night, for that little girl.

Her momma wears a uniform and is the bravest Soldier that little girl knows. The little girl doesn’t know that at six, she is the bravest little soldier her family, especially her momma, knows. That little girl who wears a smile as big as the sun, who lives in a life that isn't her own, and waits patiently for her brave mommas return. That little girl, my niece, is the bravest little soldier.

nightmare

I often read blogs about mom's who love hearing the soft patter of the feet of their children, its all lovey dovey and cute. I think I may have missed that stage with Makenzie, I am sure Alicia could at one time refer to anything Makenzie did as soft. I however can't say that. There is nothing she does quietly, I mean nothing. When she is in the shower I often question what she is doing, but really WHAT is she doing? It's like circus in there, I am constantly checking to make sure she didn't bring a pet monkey home and decide to give it a bath. I always know where she is, without a doubt. Even in a game of hide and seek, I have to pretend that I didn't just hear her "tip-toe" up the stairs, quietly shut slam the door, slide under the bed and hit her head three times on it. She is very amusing though when she tries to get away with something, she thinks shes all sneaky, when little does she know that we are able to hear her every move. All in all her un-softness is what keeps me aware of her, and I never have to worry if she's ok... of course, unless she is quiet then I know something is wrong.

So back to the soft patter of feet. It was about 3am when drew and I woke to the soft Clydesdale sounding patter of feet coming down the stairs and into our room. Makenzie had a nightmare, poor thing. My adrenaline was pumping at this point because I thought someone with a herd of cows was trying to get into the house, don't stress, just Makenzie. She hops into bed (crushing Drew's nether regions) and squeezes herself between us. Like I said nothing is done softly. Oh, did I mention she flipped the light on to make sure we were awake to hear about her nightmare. Drew rolls over groaning and I begin to have a conversation about her nightmare, so I can get her back to bed as soon as possible. What had happened was...

Kenz- "I had a dream that the lights kept going on and off and Molly (our dog) left the room and then I realized you had more Hip-Hop style than I did at the football game we went to last night, and it made me feel bad."

Me- "well, is it true that I have more style than you?"

Kenz- "uhhh are you kidding me? No, but it felt like a nightmare, and I woke up scared that you did."

Me- "ok, since we know it's not possible for me to have more style than you let's get you back in bed... Goodnight Makenzie"

I took her back up to bed, assured her that I do not and never will have as much style as her and that if I ever get too "cool" looking I will tone it down. She seemed settled with that and fell back asleep.

I can't believe the possibility of me being "cool" was a nightmare to her... jeeez!

thank you Irene... pretty sure my "inst-parent of the year" award is no longer in the mail.

Today was Makenzie's first day of school. No, not yesterday like the rest of her school. Yes, you read it right... she missed her first day of school. Gasp! Kenzie went to her Great Grandparents, in upstate New York, for her last week of summer. And well, Irene decided to flood that particular area and make it impossible to get back in a timely manner Sunday (if at all). So, instead of forcing the issue on Sunday... my brother opted to drive her back on Monday. My brother has been driving for a year and is a stellar driver, in comparison to the rest of us, but still him fording rivers in his car golf cart was not really high on my priority list. So, today was her first day of 1st Grade, and today was uncle Mat's last day as our "Manny". (I will explain all that in another post about our summer). When Makenzie missed her first day, I felt like I had slightly failed as an "insta-parent". But thank you super kind lady in the front office of her school for saying these kind words... "I bet she still gets into college and the Makenzie I see in the hallways will have NO problem adjusting to missing the first day of school, she will be just fine." It's true, she switched Kindergarten Schools 3 times without a problem, and was recommended to skip to 1st grade several times. So the lady is right, I felt like I failed slightly, but I think she will be just fine.

I still don't think my "inst-parent of the year" award is in the mail:-)

isn't that where it is?

The news is out. Family, friends, and strangers know... yep we are on our way to a family of 4 (for at least 2 months then my sister comes home). It looks like God was preparing us to be a family of 3. In simpler terms. Baby in February. However, what this post is really about... What had happened was...

Makenzie came up to me the other day and gave me the biggest hug, it was so sweet, I hugged her back. Then she preceded to "hug" my boobs chest area and then reached up to kiss them. I took her hands away and asked her what she was doing? She says "ummm kissing the baby, isn't that where it is?" Me, "No its in my belly." Makenzie, "oh, well your boobs are getting huge and your belly is so little I thought your boobs were pregnant."

Living with a six year old is like living with a stand up comedian.

a popsicle and rubber gloves

Today was the first fall (with blood) that I have had with makenzie... She is not a stranger to falling. NOT AT ALL. She is exactly like my sister in that regard. My sister fell so many times growing up that when she would fall down the stairs, no one would ask her if she was ok but, she would give a yell saying "don't worry I am ok" its when she didn't yell anything that we knew she might not be fine.


Makenzie is the same way, she fell down the stairs twice today and both times walked into the kitchen to announce that she was ok and not to worry.

Tonight though, I heard the fall and waited for the announcement. No announcement... Fear struck me. She officially hurt herself and there was blood. I'm ok with blood and people I don't know, not with people I do know. I know my niece. So I ran and got the first aid kit. Surprisingly, I knew where it was. Threw on some rubber gloves, for comic relief. It worked. Then called in my little brother to be my "Male Nurse" and hand me things as he called me doctor. Also Comic Relief. Also worked. The last thing I added was an orange Popsicle, not comic relief but worked. What started out as crying and telling me she wasn't ok, turned into rolling over laughing at me in my large rubber gloves, Matt pretending he was a male nurse and the worlds smallest wound covered by the biggest bandage we had on hand. In this case laughter was the best medicine... and maybe the orange Popsicle helped?

*her wound is the size of a dime... I know the bandage was overkill, but it worked.

for the love of dresses

Our Friday. The playground program she goes to had dress up as your favorite character day. I know this isn't a character per say, but to her a princess is a character or at least it was a good day to dress up in your finest and then run around on the playground with the boys. She is SO much like my sister! Dressed up then running around and playing in the dirt.

Real 4th of July attire, she sure does love dresses... what you cant see is on the back of her she is covered in chalk and dirt. She told me that day "aunt mandy (facing forward) I am business in the front... (turns around) and a party in the back" for sure Makenzie for sure!

And one more dress picture, just to prove her love of dresses. We dressed up to see my little brother off at his prom, so this was her first prom experience. I know it is a long way off, but its not to early to practice wearing a prom dress.. is it??

You have nothing in common

So, Makenzie was helping me make dinner the other night and she turns to me with a serious face and the following conversation happened:

Makenzie- "Aunt Mandy do you like peas?"
Me- "Yes, I do they are one of my favorite vegetables."

She gets this intense look of confusion...

Makenzie- "Well Aunt Mandy, I'm just wondering how you and uncle drew can be married, I mean you really have nothing in common."
Me- "What do you mean by we have nothing in common?"
Makenzie- "ummm, well I asked uncle drew earlier if he likes peas and he says he HATES them... seriously hates them, really how can you guys be married? I have more in common with him, cause I also don't like peas either Aunt Mandy."

I guess she had asked Uncle Drew in an earlier conversation if he liked peas, and had come to the conclusion that since we have a difference in opinion on vegetables that we clearly have nothing in common.

All that became of the conversation was an agreement that during the course of the next year peas will not be served, two against one... I lose.

glasses

A few weeks ago I gave my niece a speech that when kids are around, adults grow eyes in the back of their heads and we can see everything. It took some convincing and I had to assure her when she became an adult she would also grow these "special" eyes. This was to let her know that she was better off just telling the truth, because we probably already knew and if we didn't, the truth would come out in the end. What had happened was...

I'm driving the car and Makenzie is sitting in her booster seat behind me. So my "special" eyes (rear view mirror) were blocked by the seat. We had just stopped at Rita's (she just so happened to get Swedish fish flavor, red in color), and I noticed she got very quiet. I thought it was because she was eating. Wrong. I looked in the mirror and tried to turn around, but I couldn't see what she was doing. She then pipes up and says... "Hey, Aunt Mandy I think you might need to see a doctor." I am completely confused right now as to what she is talking about and I asked her why? She says, "Well, ummm the eyes in the back of your head might need glasses, because I just spilled my Rita's and cleaned it up with my (white) sweater and your eyes didn't even notice it, I really think you might need glasses." She's holding up her little white sweater to show me, only now it's covered in stylish red splotches.

Instead of telling her that I don't really have "special" eyes... I told her I would have to make an appointment later this week, but I would probably get contacts instead of glasses. I thanked her for cleaning the mess and for letting me know about my eyes.

A different kind of mother's day

I have not written in quite some time. I know this. There is so much to catch up on and I will in the next few weeks but for now I will give you the short version. The month of March was an interesting one... Drew and I became "insta-parents" that is what my neighbors call it. My sister deployed with the military, and the rules say my six year old niece could not go with her. So, she lives with us.
I can't even describe the joy she brings us. The scary part is that she is in our care and trusting US to take care of her, to meet her needs, to help her when she misses her mommy. Our lives have completely changed from the selfish "WE" that drew and I had to the selfless Her. We went from a free schedule of doing what we wanted anytime, to days filled with swim team, gymnastics, math problems, and the color pink. Drew and I went from taking road trips on a drop of the hat and having long discussions about life, to singing kids songs and stopping every 40 minutes for the bathroom.
I understand that most of you reading are parents and think this may be no big deal, but we were given two weeks notice. Most people give their two weeks notice to quit a job, for us it was to start the next year of our lives. To bring my niece in and have her life intertwine with ours. We were not given the 9 months a family gets or sometimes years with adoption. And I know the moment we think things are starting to settle in, our year with her will probably be coming to a close. The last month and a half has been amazing, as I watch my husband with her I see he is going to be a great dad someday. Each night he reads her stories, prays with her daily and talks to her about her day. He treats ALL of her injuries with the "doctor" care they deserve, we seem to go through a ton of Disney Princess Band-aids (take out stock if you can, I think it will go up soon).
I now know the words Fear and Worry. I know that I can never ever be Makenzie's mom, or even come close but I do feel the things she and other mom's feel for their children. I forgot her vitamin for a few days and had a dream she had scurvy, I have to pray several times a day that God will lead us to take care of her and to put my worries in His hands. I am beyond amazed the way God is changing our family from 2 to 3 and a year from now I know we will be leaning on Him to change us back.
This was my first (insta) Mothers Day, and I hope it is not my last Mothers Day. I am sure I can't fill my sisters shoes, but I can give Makenzie all the love she can get from us while her Momma is away. Happy Mothers Day.

Thank God for brothers

My brother mike helped me, or shall I say helped my poor blog! I think this design is sooo much better. The last week or so I have avoided even looking at my blog.

Since my brother helped me out, here is a shout out for his website! He is a budding photographer, he has had a camera in his hands as far back as I can remember, of course I am biased, but I think he is just amazing. So check his photos out and leave him a message of encouragement!

It is a work in progress

I was trying to do something new with the blog... epic fail. It will have to do for now, until my oh so technical brother helps.

I thought it was a rag?

First off, all Phillies fans read with caution. Also, sit down immediately, this may crush your soul. I had no intention of creating such a commotion, after being married to a Phillies fan for two years, you would think I would have some sort of clue. What had happened was...

I asked Drew if he would clean the bathroom, after several hours of waiting on him to do it I decided to take matters into my own hands. I sprayed "scrubbing bubbles" (we do the work for you) cleaning spray all over the bathtub and started my 3 minute wait. Like I said it does the work for you! ha! I realized I did not have a rag to wipe the scrubbing bubbles off so I ran (yeah actually ran) to the hall closet (6 feet away) and grabbed the first rag I saw. About five minutes into wiping down the bathtub, dear husband shows up to give me pointers on how to clean the bathroom. Thanks for showing up when I am almost done cleaning, where were you two hours ago when I asked if you would clean the bathroom???

Anyways, he shows up and this look of horror crosses his face... I immediately hop down from the ledge of the bath totally convinced he has seen some sort of bug. I'm searching with panic for this scary thing he is looking at and I realize he is staring at my hand. I am going to preface this next comment and state that Drew DOES NOT curse, not even in the slightest. He looks at me and then my hand again and says...
Drew- "What the hell are you doing?"
Me- "ummm cleaning the bathroom?"
He looks at my hand again and says "Why are you using my Philies Rally Towel?"
Me- "I thought it was a rag??"
Drew "That is my Phillies Rally Towel from the 2008 season(when they won the World Series)... come on that is NOT a rag!"

So I waited for him to leave the bathroom, slowly walked down to the washer and started a new load with his coveted Phillies Rally towel. I wonder if he noticed that I used extra snuggle fabric softener in that load?

All you Phillies fans, I completely understand my mistake now and I have learned my lesson... I will never ever subject the Phillies Rag, oops, I mean Towel to such low standards ever again. Promise!