My plans, my outlook, my mood.

I was able to appreciate some really sweet things from some really sweet people.

There are many. I have been the lucky recipient of so many kind notes, inspirational screen shots, kisses–

but here are just a few of the sweet things that touched me this week:

I have a good, old-fashioned pen pal. My pen pal went on a trip to New Orleans a couple of weeks ago and sent me photos of beignets, to which I responded, “I want those now!” And this week, they were delivered to me. Now that is sweet.

Do you remember when my husband woke me up at 3 o’clock in the morning to give me a new pair of shoes? Well, this week, he brought home another “Just Because” present. When our pipe burst in May, leaving our basement completely flooded, I lost nearly all of my shoes. Thankfully, not the aforementioned 3am pair, but 2 entire suitcases of shoes (they were being stored in our always dry basement while we were rearranging the bedrooms after the birth of my son). We are not in a position for me to just go on a shoe shopping spree, but my husband walked in the door this week with a huge box and an even bigger smile. “I want you to start rebuilding your collection,” he said. Just because. Sweet as can be.

On Wednesday I visited the synagogue where I grew up and experienced many special moments, most of which are too personal to share. BUT, I will say that for anyone with whom I went to Hebrew School, our quilt is still hanging up in the school building! I took a picture of my square, and saw the squares of so many of my old friends (who are my still friends) and it was a sweet thing to see.

The story above says it all. Someone took the time out of her night to make sure that I was shown some sweetness, both literally and figuratively, by leaving a package at my door. The awesomeness of this community never ceases to amaze me.

This week, my husband built a castle for our kids.

We have been finishing our basement (through this oddest series of events, this dream ended up happening!!

Perhaps I willed it into reality?)

which means that our house is filled with things in strange places. I am currently referring to my sunroom as “The Furniture Store”, as it is housing two completely separate rooms worth of furniture. Two couches. Three chairs. Two ottomans. Many lamps. It also has half of our childrens’ toys, the other half being stored in half of our third floor playroom, which is now being converted into a guest room.

And boxes. So many boxes. Huge boxes, for things like pedestal sinks and toilets and tv stands.

Is there anything sweeter than watching your kids play together in their own, magical, cardboard castle?

Yes. Yes, there is;

It’s watching your husband and children act out a play called “Ariel in her Undersea Castle”.

And really, when you have friends, and family members and kids and memories like mine,

there’s not much more to do than to savor their sweetness. And this week, I am so blessed that I can.

The post Sweet things. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

1. She has an incredible gift for verbal communication. She has been talking since 6 months old and has never stopped. But she is one of those “old soul” types, and I am stunned every single day by the brilliance thatx comes out of her mouth.

And

2. A wildly active, incredibly creative imagination.

This makes things extremely fun (usually) but also extremely difficult (think “The Boy Who Cried Wolf”, except that this wolf is just realistic enough that it might have actually gotten onto the school playground that day and let her pet it, so that I can’t say 100% that she is making up a story).

This morning, as I changed my son, my daughter serving as my perpetual shadow, gabbing away,

she said something that actually made my ears perk up.

(I do listen to what she says, it is just that it is impossible to actually internalize every single thing that comes out of the mouth of someone who truly never stops talking.)

She said, “Mommy, have you ever heard of dessert peas? They have these little peas and one eye and they are from the desert and they are red. They stay on roots, or something, like these little lines.”

Okay. I was confused. This was one of those things that toed the line of fact and fantasy. And for the record, I purposely wrote “dessert” and then “desert”, as that is how they were described to me.

“Is that really true?” I asked, as I had not, in fact, heard of one eyed dessert peas that grow in the desserts  from roots.

“Yes!” she was really passionate. “It really is!”

“They also are sometimes purple,” she continued.

“Okay. I need for you to really tell me the truth,” I said, as my tactic with her seems to work; I say something like “Is it possible that maybe you are making up a little of the story of what happened or it was in your imagination? Is it possible that maybe you did color a tiny bit on your furniture? You know you can always be honest with me. I will never be mad at you for telling the truth.” If I were to actually accuse her of lying she would a) continue to lie and b) get upset.

I continued, “are there really things called dessert peas from the dessert that are red and purple and have one eye?”

“Okay,” she said with a great inhale and exhale. “I may have actually dreamed the purple part, but the red part is true. I promise.”

The plot thickens.

So because I had a baby to change and a kid to dress for school and a lunch to pack and two breakfasts plus warm milk to make, I wrote down her exact quotes so that I wouldn’t forget and moved on with my morning.

And so, when I had a second to sit during the baby’s nap, I typed “one eye dessert pea” into the search engine on my phone and it came up with a very varied list of responses. Most were recipes for a sweet Vietnamese rice and bean pudding.

Then, the smart search engine asked me if I would like to, instead, try looking up “one eye desert pea”.

And guess what?

Swainsona formosa, one of the best known wildflowers of Australia, is referred to as “Sturt’s Desert Pea”.

And they look like this:

Image gallery via Google Images

So I am very proud of my daughter for learning about this plant–something that I had absolutely no idea about–and retaining the information about it.

But I am also proud of her for being the colorful and inventive method person, almost performer, that she is. If you walk into our house and you have previously played a role play game with her, expect, without a doubt, to be called by your character’s name.

I am proud of her for being open-minded and imaginative;

In her world, there are these crazy one eyed dessert trees that grow in the dessert on roots that look like lines.

And we will work on the “desert” v. “dessert” distinction, but not yet.

Because for now,  Swainsona formosa plants exist,

as do edible plants from arid climates

and I think that we can make room for both.

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So my daughter tells me things every day like:

“There was just a HUGE ghost in my room but I’m Daphne and I captured him with Shaggy!”

“It wasn’t me who dumped all of the straws out of the drawer, it was my baby, and I told him to stop, but he kept doing it, so I started to do it too.”

and

“I can really do the flip like the girl in the Sia video, mom. No, like really.”

So if you remember, last weekend I had some very special time with my friends, particularly in that we had an overnight guest who went from being one of my besties to being one of my daughter’s.

And the whole time that she was here my daughter kept saying something about, what I thought, was a “bamboozle challenge”. And she would take two things (not edible things, mind you) and say “Is this buttercream or diaper cream?” and we would “guess” (because she would be holding up a plastic ice cream cone and a piece of play dough) and she would tell us if we were right. It was kind of weird but cute and we all assumed that this was something that she had made up.

Imagine my surprise when at the pharmacy today (because my kids are still sick and now both need antibiotics) she found these:

A box of Beanboozled collection Jelly Belly jellybeans, which, evidently, are how you do the BEANboozle challenge. I could not believe that this actually existed.

So, here is how I think it works: You and friends or family members gather together and you are given a choice of two identical looking jelly beans. I will use as my example the first two flavors pictured on my box above, as that was my first challenge. So, you have to try to guess which one is the real Jelly Belly flavor and which one is the gross alternative. I find some of the flavors to be absolutely repulsive in thought, as I have not (yet) tasted them, including “Canned Dog Food”. “Barf” and “Booger”.

So, as I mentioned, I did the first challenge. My daughter had the whole thing down. Now let me just say that I still have no idea from where she learned about this challenge (is this what kids on the playground are talking about these days?!) but she instructed us. I was to take the two identical looking, speckled beans and she had my son holding a cup for me in case I chose wrong and got “Stinky Socks” instead of “Tutti Fruity”. (That part was admittedly super cute. He just sat there, holding a cup, having no idea what was going on with his crazy mom and sister.)

Well, wouldn’t you know that I got “Stinky socks” which tasted to me like rotten cheese. And I could not get the taste out of my mouth. So when I did eat the “Tutti Fruiti” flavored bean, it still tasted gross.

She was next. She chose the white jellybeans, which meant she would either get “Coconut” or “Baby Wipes”. She also chose wrong and, in solidarity, I tried the “Baby Wipes” flavor with her, because, you know, #yolo.

She was luckier on her second try, as she got “Berry Blue” instead of “Toothpaste”, and then we decided to call it a day. But don’t think that here won’t be more bamboozling going on around here tomorrow.

I should make it clear, I am in no way affiliated with the Jelly Belly brand. They are not my partners and they have no idea that I am writing this post. I am simply giving you, parents, caregivers, intoxicated college students, ideas for a fun activity to do when you’re a bit stir crazy in this cold (with these colds).

The funniest thing is that when I told my friend about the Beanboozle challenge she was also in disbelief that it actually exists. Well, perhaps I should start getting a care package together…

And for the record, I have never eaten a booger in my entire life. And I would prefer to keep that record going as long as possible. But who knows? I could get Beanboozled and then I lose one of my most powerful weapons in the game of “Never Have I Ever”.

Can’t wait to eat some “Skunk Spray” in the morrow.

Goodnight and sweet dreams (that is if you choose the right bean).

The post I’ve been beanboozled. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

(except, if you mean temperature hot, which I do, a little).

Throughout the past four and a half years I have written about so many sick days; the time that my baby had her first fever and my husband was traveling across the country; the time when my husband had such severe strep that he was shivering in bed for days; recently, when my kids and I napped together and they woke up holding hands; and the general theme is that sick days are pretty crappy.

First and foremost, sick days are bad because it means that a kid or two is sick. And a sick kid is sad! Two sick kids are even sadder. I never want my kids to feel discomfort or pain, so I feel terrible when they are ill.

And some days sick days are tough, because it means juggling schedules and rescheduling appointments and finding childcare coverage. Today I had to cancel with the jaw chiropracter, just as we are starting to make real progress. So, not ideal.

And then there is the whole “What in the world am I going to do with two kids for twelve hours while they are cooped up indoors, sneezing, coughing and/or vomiting?”

But, the thing is, my kids now figure that part out for themselves. They worked as a team, their team.

As I was cleaning up the breakfast dishes, they built a train.

My daughter was the conductor (of course) and she told me that we were going to visit my sister in “Meyork City”.

I hopped on board.

And for a few minutes it didn’t really matter that her nose was running, and it didn’t really matter that there were some dishes in the sink or crumbs on the table,

I just felt so proud of my kids.

I feel honored when they let me join their team–when I can wear their pinny–and play along.

So we still have 8 hours until bedtime, but so far this sick day isn’t so bad. Not really at all.

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