Because of you...

I know I've been M.I.A. lately, but let me explain...

We haven't made it public knowledge (mostly because pity makes me break out in hives), but my husband and I lost our home in Super Storm Sandy. Though, we consider ourselves lucky; the things that really mattered weren't harmed. My kids and husband have their health, and we have each other. The rest is kind of self explanatory.

Which brings me to the whole point of this post. People are amazing. Truly. It's a shame that it takes a natural disaster to see it sometimes, but some things, like generosity and selflessness, are still around in abundance. We've had family donate time, money, and furniture, and friends from across the world send us warm thoughts and incredible gifts (I'll never forget what you did for us, Laura. Please know that.).

We watched entire communities band together to help those less fortunate. Some cooked, some cleaned, and some even opened their homes to complete strangers. No matter how low you get, or how impossible things seem, there is always someone who is waiting and wiling to help. In turn, never think that what you have to give is not enough. Sometimes it's the smallest gifts that mean the most.

Now that the dust has finally settled, I'm ready to jump back in with both feet. I've gotten back in touch with a close friend, written something new, tweeted, and now I've blogged. Call it baby steps :) I can't wait to see what happens next!

Hooray for the unknown!

-Ali

Old news, memorable moments...

During these last five years, I've learned that all things come full circle, especially the crap you pulled as a child. Let me take this opportunity to apologize to my mother... again. And offer my condolences to my own children, who are really in for it when they are parents themselves.

Here is a top five list of the wild things they've done, just so you get the picture.

5- I've scrubbed (insert shudder here) poop off the walls on more than one occasion. Side note: there are now crayons in every room of the house in case my daughter feels the need to be "creative" again.

4- I've cleaned fruitloops- and poor, deceased fish- out of our family fish tank. This is a personal favorite of mine, if only because of my son's reaction when I woke up and caught them "feeding" the fish. He puts his little hands in the air and goes "Ok, Momma, now don't get mad..."

3- There's the time my oldest stuck a paper towel in the toaster and I had to rip the flaming thing out of the wall, hurl it out the back door, and then let the fire inspector inside in my bathrobe. Oh, and I was nine months pregnant.

2- My daughter snuck into the fridge and decided to "make" breakfast for her and her brothers. This included milk on the rug, cereal in the bed, and raw egg EVERYWHERE! Another side note: This started a whole butt-load of hoarding adventure. There are far too many to list, but use your imagination. Trust me, you won't be far off.

1- And probably the best- and least destructive- moment of all was when my daughter painted my son's toenails florescent pink. In his sleep. With a sharpie.

I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I no longer sleep, and recently found my first gray hair. But hey, at least I'll never run short of writing material! I love you my crazy, amazing kids!!!

Hooray for wonderful mayhem!

-Ali

A moment of silence...

All morning long, I've been trying to come up with words for today. I've got nothing. Instead, I'm offering up a long moment of silence in honor of those who lost their lives 11 years ago today, as well as those who have been fighting for our freedom ever since. To the brave and true and missed, thank you.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

-Ali

And so it begins...

It's that time of year again. Yellow school buses prowl the streets while red, orange, and almost green leaves cover the yard. There's that chill creeping in that just makes you want to bake something. Halloween decorations are everywhere. Electric bills are climbing down from "holy cow" to "I can actually pay that!"Fall used to be my favorite season.

And now I want to punch it in the child-stealing nose!

My two oldest had their first day of preschool last Thursday. Yeah, sure, this is a momentous occasion I should be savoring. I mean, I'm drinking hot coffee and writing on my blog at 10:30 in the morning. Hot coffee? Quiet house? Baby sleeping in? There's something wrong with this picture!

Where's my writing noise? Most people write to music or a ticking clock. Me? I write to a melody of little running feet and a chorus of "Mom! Momma! Mommy!!!" Without it I'm lost. (Image puppy eyes and a pouty lip here.)

The only upside to this is that the kids adore school! They couldn't wait to go last week, and Zandr woke up at 6am both Saturday and Sunday begging to go. Friends and books and wonderful teachers who give him food? What more can a kid ask for! Kyleigh, on the other hand, wasn't as eager this morning. She wanted me (YES!). The aide literally had to rip her out of my arms. This was so. not. cool! There are no words for that moment. A couple of girls I used to go to school with were talking in the parking lot after the aide shooed me out, and tried to have an adult conversation with me. They took in the fact that I was an emotional train wreck and laughed. "You are such a preschool mom!" said the one. Yes, yes I am.

And now I'm off to wear a hole in the floor whilst I pace. Come on, 3:30!

-Ali

Simple Joys...

So today a friend of mine asked me (at 2:30 am whilst I was working) how I do it all. By all, she meant raising 3 kids (and a husband), working 2 jobs, keeping a semi clean home AND writing a novel. She was the third or forth person to ask me that this week alone. My reply varied from "because I love my kids" to "you do what you gotta do." But in my head, my first response (which I always edit because pity makes me break out in hives) was "I have no freakin' idea! I'm so tired I could curl up on your shoes and sleep for a week!"

See? I think my shrug and non-answers are the better choice.

Yes, I'm exhausted, but it won't be like this forever. My husband let me stay home with the kids while I was between jobs, and now it's his turn. I have to leave them everyday, but I also get to come home and see their wonderful, excited faces every night. All three of my kids stay up until I can read them a book and tuck them in. This is amazing. Those sleepy kisses are what keeps me going.

And even though Daddy is home, they still want Momma. That little fact shouldn't make me so happy, but it does. I feel wanted; needed. Sometimes that's all a person needs to jump start their "motivation" gene.

Right now, I'm writing with one hand while holding my 13 month old as he eats a Gerber granola bar. It's the happiest I've been all day. Weird? Maybe :)

Hooray for the simple and wonderful!

-Ali

A break from my high-speed hilarity

As the morning progressed, several ideas for today's blog ran through my head. I could write about the ridiculous things I found in even more ridiculous places, or the little corner of our living room that my daughter has made into her own personal haven. I could write about the seven quick-changes baby girl made every time she went down the hall into her bedroom, or the woman-beast war I just had with my 75 pound lab in the backyard. And maybe they will all appear in a different post one day, but for now, there is something a little more serious that I wanted to get off my chest.

I'm sure every parent feels like they have failed their children at one time or another. I constantly have that nagging feeling in the back of my mind, this week in particular. I'm convinced that if there was a program that could read your future and display it for a committee (yes, this is the sci-fi, distopian side of my brain talking), they would have confiscated my uterus so I wouldn't have had the chance to procreate.

And here is why:

On Friday an incident ensued in my household that involved tears and blood and five stitches in my four year old son's right pinkie. I was in the shower when it happened. Not only should I have been there to stop this, but the responsible parties should have known better. I should have taught them better. Either way you look at it, it was essentially my fault.

Which leads me to the point of all of this.

Not a one of us is perfect. We are human. That title gives us the right to screw up every now and then. And even though I feel like the worst Mommy in the whole wide world right now, I have been blessed with the opportunity to learn from this and do better next time. I have also been blessed with very forgiving, loving, beautiful children who love me despite my gray spots.

And hide sit-on bouncy balls under the sink to remind me that life goes on.

-Ali

More antics

So today I'm feeding the baby when my husband leans out of my sons room and calls "honey, do you know what the hell is all over in here?" Knowing my children, I can only imagine. I go back to spooning Gerber spaghetti into my hungry little one, hoping my husband will handle it.

Two hours later I go in to help my son clean his room, and there it is... Diaper innards... Everywhere! I'm talking the little absorbent beads that suck up the pee. They're stuck to the wall, splattered on the window, ground into the carpet, and my personal favorite, dripping from the ceiling.

My husband comes in when I start yelling. I tell him what they are and watch the horror creep across his face. He shudders and says "good luck with that." And then he leaves.

Just another day in paradise!

-Ali